


Long Way Home

by Star58



Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: A/U, Adventure, Alternate Universe - Romance Novel, Anomen - Freeform, Bhaalspawn - Freeform, F/M, Haer'Dalis - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-10
Updated: 2012-07-03
Packaged: 2017-10-14 15:18:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 55
Words: 168,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star58/pseuds/Star58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A/U story about an accidental trip through an unexpectedly placed portal. Baldur's Gate: Shadow of Amn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Strange New World

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I began this story several years ago as a response to The Attic's Quiz 57 which encouraged writers to do an A/U take on the Baldur’s Gate story. One option was to bring a character from Earth into Faerun where they would “physically partake in the adventures of the BG series, going through the game(s) as herself.” The idea was to write a one-shot or even 2-3 part story. This one ended up being much longer. Thirty chapters later it was still unfinished. Then writer’s block struck and poor Jen ended up stranded in Faerun until one day, about six months ago I rediscovered her, stranded on a flash drive on an empty desktop.
> 
> I decided to edit and finish the story and in fact, it nearly doubled from its original length – an attribute that makes it a “ficzilla” by some standards.  But atleast this time, Jen and company have completed their tale and are no longer isolated and alone.
> 
> Many thanks to my original betas Keira and Laufey at The Attic (www.gamejag.net). And also many many thanks to Shenzi for betaing the edits and the new additions to this story. As a non-BG player, she provided many valuable insights and asked a lot of great questions that have resulted (hopefully!) in a story that is understandable and fun whether or not you’ve ever played the game.

The early morning sun was bright and felt unseasonably warm.  Jen and Beth were prepared for heat thanks to the morning’s weather report, however as the temperature rose, they found that the hike which had sounded like such good fun in the middle of the week was rapidly becoming an exercise in endurance. Both women really did enjoy the outdoors and had hiked and backpacked frequently in all kinds of weather.  Still, they knew heat – and the first hot spell of the season, in particular - wasn’t something to ignore.  _Shoulda gone to the mall,_ thought Jen.   _It has air conditioning._  

A large bee flew past Jen, its legs loaded with pollen. She stopped for a moment tilting her head slightly as she sucked on the mouthpiece of her Camelbak and watching as the bee landed in a patch of trumpet-like flowers, eventually disappearing into one of the long-throated blooms.  _Even the bee’s found shade,_ she thought in disgust pulling off her cap to fan herself.  She glanced towards Beth, “Jeez, can you believe this heat? And it’s only friggin’ May.”  

"Yeah," her friend agreed. "It _is_ unusually hot.”  She pulled off her own cap, rumpling the hair beneath and fanning herself for a second before jamming it back onto her head.  “You know, when we looked at the map this morning, it showed a river intersecting with this section of trail somewhere near the bottom of the hill. And once we get there we can take a break.  Maybe even swim."

They continued along the trail which finally left the ridgeline and began sloping down towards the valley floor.  Then as they came around a bend Jen finally spotted a glimpse of blue ribbon behind a large cluster of trees a short distance away. Whooping with delight she hurried off at a rapid pace, barely waiting for or even hearing Beth’s grunt of acknowledgement.

As she drew closer she saw that a narrow path winding through the trees so she followed it, searching for the little bit of wilderness oasis she’d seen from her previous vantage point. The sound of rushing water told her she was nearing her destination however she was completely unprepared for what she found; an extensive waterway with a portion of the river actually flowing through a series of rocks above her and cascading over falls into a large pool before heading away along the hills at the base of the valley floor. _Damn, this is a lot bigger than it looked like on the map!_ she thought gleefully. 

She turned, looking for Beth only to realize that her friend was still quite a ways behind her.  This was a fairly normal occurrence for Beth tended to walk much more slowly than Jen even at the best of times. Heading back to where the trees met the trail, she spotted Beth a short distance away and waved to encourage her before leaning against the nearest trunk, wriggling her shoulders as she settled herself comfortably on the ground and squeezing her pack’s bite valve to spray water onto her hot face.  She was feeling considerably better by the time Beth arrived and settled down next to her grinning companionably and saying, “Energizer Bunny!”

Jen grinned back, "Slowpoke! I'm cool and ready to move on again!"

"Huh!" replied Beth. "I’m not moving; at least not for awhile. And when I do move, I’m going to swim. If you've got so much energy, why don't you amuse yourself by poking around this rock? Explore, go look for arrowheads or interesting rocks or _something_.  Just let me sit here and cool off!"  She waved her hands at Jen to shoo her away. 

Jen shook her head but obediently rose to her feet and headed towards the waterfall, looking for something – anything – with which to entertain herself until Beth was ready to move on.  The falls were a thin, almost sheer curtain of water flowing over and somehow _away_ from the rock face.  She peered at it curiously, finally stepping into the stream and wading toward it.  Looking up she saw that the stream went over a large overhang leaving a space between the rock face and the running water. _Just like in Hawaii_. She clambered up the rocks, ducking behind the falls. The damp spray soaked the front of her shirt and she shivered as a draft of cool air hit her skin.  It seemed to be coming from an opening directly in front of her.  She peered into the hole, but it was too dark to see anything so she made her way back to the riverbank, calling, "Hey Beth! Come here! I think I've found the entrance to a cave of some sort!"

Beth climbed to her feet, grabbing both their packs before making her way to Jen.  “What? Where?” 

“Behind the water,” Jen said, taking the proffered pack and slinging it over her shoulders.

They clambered down to the rocks, making their way behind the falls.  Jen pointed towards the opening but Beth, ever the practical one, shook her head.  “It’s a hole and I doubt we can see much without light.  Don't you have an emergency flashlight in your pack?"  Jen reached an arm to the pack behind her, scrabbling vainly for a minute at the zipper on its front pocket.  After a minute Beth reached out to help, finding the light and handing it to Jen before joining her in peering at the fissure.

Jen’s flashlight exposed a narrow passage in the rock that opened up into vast blackness. She stooped, preparing to step inside only to be pulled back by Beth.  “Wait! Be sensible, Jen.  I don’t think this is a good idea.  I mean, it might not be safe. The air could be bad or we could be climbing into a bear cave or a coyote den!”

“Under a waterfall?!  Don’t be ridiculous!”  Jen waved the light around into the empty darkness in front of her.  She bent her head, squeezing herself through the gap and looked back, still in a semi-crouched position.  “See?  I’m still here.”  Next she drew in a deep breath of air and then gasped, clawing and clutching her throat, staggering theatrically for a moment before falling into a fit of laughter at Beth’s horrified expression. “No really. The air seems fine and I doubt any kind of animal’s gonna come out. Besides, where’s your sense of adventure?!” She pointed her light first towards the ceiling to ascertain its height and then into the blackness in front of her, straightening up to her full height. “Hmmm… this seems ok. C’mon.”

Beth rolled her eyes, pulling out her own flashlight before cautiously following Jen through the opening and into a large cavern. Stalactiteshung from the high ceiling like jagged teeth and water dripped onto the uneven floor.  Although she could appreciate rock formation’s beauty, Jen was not a geologist and saw little else at first to catch her interest. The damp darkness seemed to swallow the light, making it difficult to see. She moved forward slowly, only to trip as her foot caught on a rock sticking up out of the floor. She staggered for a moment, her flashlight waving wildly in her hand and as she regained her balance she saw something glinting on a protrusion just to her left. The glint materialized into a length of chain, snagged on the stub of rock. She reached for it and found it was attached to a dull green stone about the size of a silver dollar.  The stone was covered by a light film of dirt so she rubbed her thumb over its uneven surface to clean it, revealing a regular pattern of lines carved into its surface.   

"Whoa, would you look at this!” she exclaimed.  “Have you ever seen anything like it?"

Beth looked over her shoulder adding the light from her own flashlight to Jen’s as she peered at the pendant in Jen’s hand. "No,” she said. "But it almost looks like some sort of carving. How odd. How do you think it got in here? Do you think it's real?"

"Real as in valuable gem?  Or real as in a real rock?  I dunno exactly.”  Jen peered at the stone, rubbing it again, this time with her sleeve and finally tapping it gently on the rock floor. "It _seems_ real enough. I haven’t a clue how it could have been dropped here though.  The area’s supposed to be riddled with caves although I don’t remember _this_ one being marked on the map at all.  I supposed someone – another hiker perhaps – could’ve dropped it although it seems like a pretty odd thing for someone to wear trekking.  Think I’ll go outside and take a look at it in the sunlight – it’s hard to see well in here." She headed back to the cave entrance and stepped outside, blinking as her eyes adjusted and then noticed that the stone appeared to be gleaming. Muttering to herself, she rubbed it against her shirt again, startling as suddenly it flashed, taking on warmth and becoming hot in her hand. “ _Dammit!”_   she yelped, her voice rising in an atonal screech. She dropped the stone involuntarily but the chain caught on her fingers and dangled there. Looking down she saw the stone had begun to shine brightly with pulsing golden brown threads appearing on its surface and as she looked at it, she realized that the air surrounding her had become hazy. As she stepped forward still peering at the rock in her hand, she felt a slight resistance and then something seemed to snap, like a door closing behind her.

"Beth!" she yelled. "Hey, Beth, c'mere and _look at this_!" There was no answer and she whirled around, moving back towards the cliff face which suddenly seemed to have become quite solid. Dazed, she put out her hands, feeling the stone carefully at first and then more frantically as she ran them over the surface looking for the cave entrance. It wasn’t there.  Her heart began to pound and she rubbed at her eyes hoping to clear her vision but it didn’t help.  No cave entrance appeared before either her eyes or under her searching hands.  

"Beth!" she yelled. "Beth, where are you?" There was still no answer. After several minutes of frantic calling and searching she gave up, making her way to the creek bank where she sat for a few minutes, head in hands staring into the water. _What could have happened?_ Finally she realized that the trees reflected in the water looked different from the ones she knew had been on the creek bank before and an icy chill ran down her spine as she looked around, realizing that wherever she was, it wasn't the Blackridge Wilderness.  Instead of grassy slopes and oaks, the river was now surrounded by a mixture of tall broad-leafed trees and conifers and the ground was covered with a spongy duff.   _I'm not sure where this place is,_ she thought, _but one thing's for certain – Dorothy’s not in Kansas anymore!_

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The travelers moved slowly through the forest. It had been a long day of walking and Athkatla was still a long ways off.  Tristan was tired and really would have _preferred_ to have called a halt some time ago, but her companions had protested, urging her to continue on.  Tristan looked around to see how the rest of the party was faring , noticing that most were finally beginning to tired as they moved slowly through the trees, hampered by heavy armor and packs.  She hated trying to move a war party on foot, wishing as she had several times over the past few weeks, that she were wealthy enough to hire horses for such ventures.  _If wishes were horses then beggars would ride_.  Suddenly she decided she’d had enough. “We _need_ to find a place to camp,” she said firmly.

"It’s too early to stop and we're still miles away from the closest inn. I really don't want to spend another night in the woods," said Nalia as she ducked under a low hanging branch, slapping an errant strand of hair out of her eyes, with an irritable sigh.

"Well if the only place you'll sleep is in an inn, we'll be walking all night," replied Tristan. She managed to keep her tone reasonable although she was becoming annoyed. She’d known that her client was a pampered young woman when she’d agreed to help her, but the even the knowledge that Nalia was paying for Tristan’s help didn’t do much to lessen the irritation of dealing with her when conditions were less than favorable. They had been traveling for several days on a route that was generally well traveled. Even so, there were few inns and a lot of bandits, which only served the make the journey more difficult. She glanced over her shoulder towards the rest of the group.

The party’s two knights looked back at her.  "I'd rather keep going as well," the younger one said. "Even if I don't need the comforts of an inn, there's just something about these woods…as if we're being watched.  Do you feel it Keldorn?"  The older man walking beside him nodded in agreement but said nothing.

Just as he finished speaking a gust of wind blew through the trees and they heard a loud crack as if something had hit a tree. "What's that?!" exclaimed Tristan.

"Summer storm coming up most likely," replied Nalia. She had lived in the area all her young life and knew this to be the usual result of a day as hot and muggy as this one.

Tristan sighed irritably. "Oh that’s just _great_. Well, Nalia, if a storm is really coming up, I think we're going to have to stop soon, inn or no inn. We won't be able to outrun it, but we _can_ pick up the pace and try to find _somewhere_ to shelter."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

After the first shock of being alone, Jen sat down to think. _What could have happened?_ _One minute I'm in a cave with Beth and the next, I'm somewhere completely different._ She remembered the necklace and the odd feeling she'd had that the stone was growing warm and looked down at it, studying it carefully. The necklace seemed normal now – no glowing lines, no warmth. For a moment, she wondered if she had hit her head. S _ure, maybe that's it. I'm unconscious and dreaming all of this._ As a test, she pinched herself hard then yelped in pain.   _Damn! Not unconscious after all._

She looked around, taking stock of her surroundings. Although she’d previously been in a wilderness area, she’d been able to see suburbia in the distance. Now there was nothing. There were no houses, no people, only trees, wind and possibly – given the sounds she was hearing – wild animals. She pulled out her Etrex to get her bearings, hoping it would help her retrace her steps and mentally chastising herself for leaving her cell phone at home.  Beth had laughed at her for bringing the GPS, but she loved gadgets and this was her latest toy. The Etrex’s internal computer began searching but for some reason nothing came up on the GPS’s screen, not even her previous waypoints or path.

Wind tugged at her cap and looking around she saw clouds scuttling overhead; moving in as if to rain. _I'll need to find some shelter – and figure out where there's a town if I'm going to get through this. I sure hope I can find a phone._ She had planned to be gone on day trip so her light pack carried only a few basic necessities; flashlight, waterproof matches, light jacket, first aid kit, water bottle and a day’s worth of food. She looked around thoughtfully. _Probably be smartest_ _to follow the creek. People often built homes near water._

She stood, noticing her hands were trembling as she picked up her pack and thought _I’m scared; really truly scared._ She usually enjoyed the unknown but her awareness that this time something was different and very _wrong_ , made her stomach roil with anxious tension. _I don’t know what happened or where I am._  Breathing slowly and deeply to calm herself, she shoved the necklace into her pocket and began climbing over vines and fallen logs as she moved downstream accompanied by only the twittering of birds and the light scuttle of lizards and small animals.  The silence was unnerving and letting her know that she was not only well and truly lost but very much alone. _I’ve certainly been alone in the woods before, what’s wrong with me? Panicking won’t help._ She continued to walk and listen but saw and heard nothing out of the ordinary.  Then, just as she was beginning to feel some assurance of safety, she heard a series of loud crashing noises which effectively reactivated her fears.  It sounded as though a series of large – and rather clumsy - creatures were moving through the underbrush. She began to move cautiously, placing her feet as lightly as possible and remaining alert in case the "creatures" proved to be close and dangerous. Even as she went on high alert she found her mind resorting to whimsy as she tried to puzzle out what might be making such a racket.   _Lions and tigers and bears, oh boy! This is an adventure!_

She caught up with the "creatures" a short time later – not animals but a small group of people. The leader of the group – or at least the one walking in front – was a tall, dark-haired woman accompanied two men dressed what appeared to be heavy plate mail, a young woman and a couple whose graceful movements and strangely pointed ears marked them somehow even at first glance as alien _._ All were carrying heavy packs and bearing an array of such curious armaments that she wondered if she had somehow stumbled across a group from the Society for Creative Anachronism.

The travelers had not seen her but instead were talking among themselves as they strode through the forest. Jen listened carefully, surprised to find that she could understand at least _parts_ of the conversation although the speakers _did_ seem to have odd and extremely heavy accents.  She began to feel a fluttering of hope that, whoever these people, they might be willing to help her. 

Still, caution was in order. _Better someone than no one but it’s still probably best to watch first._ She slowed, maintaining a discrete distance as she crept through the trees behind them before eventually deciding she didn't need to stay _too_ far back since the party was making enough noise to be followed by even the most amateur tracker. Later, she realized this was the reason she hadn't noticed a second group until it was almost too late.  

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tristan and her warparty hurried forward, intent on finding a sheltered spot to camp. Suddenly she heard Keldorn’s deep voice behind her. "Hold! We’re not alone!"

Tristan looked around carefully. She could see nothing and she also found it hard to hear over the rising wind. _It is definitely going to be quite a storm._ "Keldorn! I can't see anything. What are you looking at?" she asked in a loud whisper. The old knight moved next to her, motioning her to be quiet as he continued to stare at something in the distance.

He said quietly, “I think there's a man over in the clearing. See him? Behind the tree?"

Tristan looked in the direction that he was pointing, finally spotting the man. What little of him was in sight appeared to be dressed in rough leather; common clothing for both hunters as well as those in much less respectable occupations.  She sighed in exasperation. "Gods, not more bandits! Let's keep to the trees and see if we can get past them." They started forward again, now moving more cautiously, but finally she stopped, shaking her head as she looked at the two knights.  "We'll never make it with you and Anomen crashing around. I wish you two could see fit to pack that plate mail during cross-country trips and wear something less….less noisy!" She’d left her own plate in Athkatla and was currently wearing armor made of hardened and studded leather.

Anomen grinned at her. "Not all of us were intended to be bards….or thieves," he added softly, his glance going to their other companions, his gaze resting first on the blue haired tiefling[[1]](../javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_edn1) and then the young female mage.  Both ignored Anomen’s jibe for once, instead looking around for a place to discard their packs in preparation for the inevitable battle just as the bandits came running through the woods towards them.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

At first, Jen felt sure she really _was_ in the middle of an SCA enactment but as the sounds of battle along with the screams of wounded and dying men grew louder she realized the two groups were truly fighting.  Having no weapons of her own, she hid herself behind a tall tree as quickly as possible; peeking out occasionally to make sure she remained far enough away. Besides swords and other outdated weapons, Jen noticed one of the women throwing red balls of light which seemed to simply blossom in her hands. _That seems like an odd type of grenade. They just seem to – appear.  Where’s she getting them from?_

The battle went on and drew closer.  Jen looked around, spotting a fallen tree. Vines grew over the stubs of limbs forming a dense curtain.  She made her way behind it, and squatted down, peering through gaps in the vines as she waited for the battle to end.  Although she couldn’t see clearly from her hiding place, it wasn’t long before the sounds of battle ceased.  Peering through the screening plans, she could see the fighting had ceased leaving several bodies on the ground although none seemed to be from the group she’d been following.  As Jen continued to watch, the party fell busily to work stripping the dead of their earthly goods. She stayed behind her log, peeking out occasionally and hoping to remain undiscovered.  By the time the party was finished and had begun stacking the bodies together in preparation for burning or burial – she wasn’t sure which – her legs had begun to cramp from being stuck in a squatting position.  She tried to remain still and avoid making noise. However, something must have given her away for suddenly the blue-haired male said something and pointed in her direction before turning and running towards her. Jen scrambled backwards, tripping over branches and vines but even wearing armor, the man moved more quickly than she did. He drew close, sword raised and Jen ripped off her pack, holding it in her hands as a shield against the inevitable blow. He skidded to a stop as he reached her and they stared at each other for a frozen moment. Then the man sheathed his weapon, reaching out to grab her arm – his movements so rapid, they didn’t register until she found herself being propelled forward towards the main group.

"Who are you and where did you come from? Why are you following us?" asked the dark-haired woman. Her voice carried a note of command and from her stance it was clear she was used to being obeyed.

"My name is J-Jen - Jenessa Griffith.”  Jen heard herself stammer.  She swallowed, and then took a breath.  “I was following you because I hoped you'd lead me to civilization. I-I'm not really _sure_ where I am right now. I know I started out this morning in Blackridge Wilderness, but this looks _nothing_ like it. Right now I don't know _where_ I am or what happened. I've been following the creek hoping to find a town or at least a house with a phone."

The woman stared at Jen, her gaze cold. "We're traveling back to Athkatla.” At Jen’s puzzled look she added, “That's the closest city. However out here in the woods, there's no one around but us and these fine fellows." She gestured at the pile of bodies nearby. She stepped closer, examining Jen carefully. "My question is what are you doing here?  As to what you’re looking for – I don't know what you mean by _'fone_.' Is it some kind of weapon?”  She reached for Jen, whirling her around and up against a tree, patting her down with brisk efficiency. Jen wanted to jerk away or at least to struggle but forced herself remained still throughout, knowing she wouldn’t survive a fight under the circumstances.  After a moment the woman stepped back. “I’m sorry about that but given what’s just happened, we can’t be too careful. You _appear_ to be unarmed although no one in their right mind would wander in _these_ hills without protection. But then again, maybe you have protections I can't see.  Perhaps you're a mage??"

"A – _mage_?" Jen grinned helplessly.  She was now sure she'd come across a group of lunatics and a sudden vision of Robin Hood and his band of Merry Men – or at least of the _Men in Tights_ version - popped into her head as she eyed the woman in front of her.  Aloud she said, "I don't know what you're talking about. I've never met a mage."

"Well," replied the woman, "then let me introduce you to my friend here.” She pointed to the young human female. “This is Nalia de Arnise – Mage, Noblewoman, Journeyman Thief. Didn’t you see her casting spells earlier?”

"You're a mage?" Jen looked at the one called Nalia. She began to feel a little lightheaded. Armor. Mages. Spells. It was all a Bit Too Much.

"Yes," the young woman replied. "Well, I'm learning anyway."

"Ah. Well alright then." Jen turned back to the leader. "Look, I've told you who I am, so why don't you tell me who you are? And where is this Athkatla located? Do you have a map I could look at? I'm really not sure where I am right now."

"Slowly now. One thing at a time,” replied the woman. “You seem to be genuinely lost and certainly no threat. My name is Tristan.” She waved her hand towards the armored men. "Keldorn and Anomen, a knight and a squire from the Order of the Radiant Heart." Gesturing towards the man with blue hair and woman with oddly pointed ears she added, "This is Haer' Dalis. Jaheira is next to him and you’ve just met Nalia.” She looked at Jen’s face, continuing to study her.  “You know, I'm starting to think this conversation is going to take awhile. You're asking questions that mean little to us and I think our answers aren't making much sense to you. We were about to stop for the night. Why don't you share our campfire and we'll talk further?"

"Yes," said Jen. "I think I'd like that."

 

\----------------------------------------------

[[1]](../javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_ednref1) Originally, tieflings were humans whose ancestry included a fiend of some sort – demons, devils, evil deities etc. However, currently (and as used in Baldur’s Gate 2), tieflings can come from other backgrounds, most notably elven-fiend combinations. It is important to note that the fiendish blood is fairly far back in the tiefling’s family tree.   <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tiefling>

 


	2. Doors and Windows

Tristan stared into the fire flickering fitfully in front of the fallen tree she was using as a seat. The damp wood made for a rather small and smoky fire.  She was silent and watchful, her sword beside her ready to be grabbed at a moment’s notice should the need arise but so far, the night was quiet except for the sounds of sleep emanating from the shelter behind her. The storm which had sent them scurrying for shelter earlier in the day had finally blown itself out leaving only an occasional drip from the tree branches overhead as a somewhat unpleasant reminder of its passing.

The dampness and smoky air fit her mood which, at the moment, was rather dour.  She was very tired after the previous day’s journey and fight with the bandits but she hadn't been able to sleep. Gods knew she had tried, but her mind refused to rest, jumping between her recent adventures and the strange young woman they’d come across. Unable to still her restless thoughts, she’d tossed and turned for close to an hour before finally decidin her time would be more profitably spent on watch.  Jaheira, whom she had relieved, had been delighted by her sudden good fortune, taking Tristan’s place in the tent and, much to her younger colleague’s envy, gone immediately to sleep.

Tristan wriggled, her reinforced leather vest creaking as she settled into a more comfortable position. She’d chosen to leave her armor in the tent, knowing its metal fastenings would rust if out in the damp for very long.  Her feet were chilled and she moved them as close to the glowing embers possible taking care not to catch her boots on fire. If she couldn't sleep, at least she could sit and think. _So many responsibilities lately!_ Her chest rose in an involuntary sigh and she reached for the flask at her side.  She didn’t normally indulge in spirits on the trail, particularly not while on watch but she felt safe enough in the damp darkness. Pulling the bottle out of her belt, she took a swig, blinking as the liquid burned her throat. _All I ever wanted was to settle down somewhere in the woods around Candlekeep. But now…seems like everyone I meet wants something from me. All except Imoen._ Her lips tightened with helpless anger as she once again pictured her sister struggling to get away from the Cowled Wizards[[1]](../../../javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_edn1) _._   _Fighting them wouldn’t have helped her – they just would have blasted us all before taking her away. This way at least I can still find Immy or I could if I could ignore all the requests for help, but that doesn't seem right either. Gorion would never have approved of me just turning people away._

Thinking of her father, reminded her of Jaheira’s husband Khalid and his frequent comments about how proud Gorion would be of her actions. With the memory, her eyes misted over and she wiped them with the back of her hand. _Gorion and Khalid, my father and my friend_ – _both gone now._ Her face crumbled for a moment, her lips trembling. She scrubbed at her face, willing herself to calm down.   _Can't cry – no time. I've got to think. I've got to get us back to Athkatla and I've got to find Imoen. Except now there's this woman from…from Gods know where needing my help. Gods, what am I going to do about Jen? I don't know HOW to get her home. I don’t really want to try, but I don’t feel like I can really leave her out here. On the other hand, she certainly can't go with us – she'd be killed far too quickly._ She pondered her dilemma further but no real solution came to mind other than to leave the young woman to solve her own problem.

A twig snapped behind her. Tristan started to jump up and then relaxed as she recognized the tiefling. “Oh, it's you, Haer'Dalis.” __

“Yes, my Raven, it's only me. And what brings you out of our delightfully dry although somewhat crowded shelter and into the damp and dreary world?”  He climbed over the log gracefully, seating himself next to her. She noticed he too had chosen to leave off his armor although his twin blades, Chaos and Entropy, were strapped to his waist.

“Couldn't sleep,” she replied shortly.

“Ah to sleep and perchance to dream[[2]](../../../javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_edn2)!  I too would give much to be able to sink into sound slumber. But alas, our gallant knights are so entranced with my Lady Sleep and are entertaining her so enthusiastically that it is impossible for anyone else to gain her attention.”

Tristan giggled at his theatrical manner. _Well, he is an actor after all!_  Still, Anomen, Keldorn and now Jaheira _were_ snoring rather loudly – _sawing wood, Gorion had called it_.  They had certainly contributed to her sleeplessness as well.  “Poor Haer'Dalis!  I understand completely. Maybe this will help.” She held the flask towards him.

He accepted the proffered drink gratefully, taking a long pull.  Although the flask’s contents tended to take _her_ breath away, she noticed he seemed to swallow the large mouthful of liquid easily and unconcernedly.  He returned her gaze thoughtfully, his eyes narrowing slightly before he spoke.  “A copper for your thoughts.”

“Oh, I don't know if they're worth _that_ much,” she said lightly, reaching over to take the flagon from him. “I'm just wondering what to do about Jen. Have you ever heard such a story? Her world is so different from ours. She's like an infant here – helpless and unable to defend herself. Imagine not being able to use weapons! And no magic, but all those machines she talked about. Cumpewters and fones to talk with people across long distances and machines for traveling. Can you imagine traveling in a machine…. _flying_?!”

“There are many strange worlds among the planes.” he replied gravely. “If you think about it, we're not so different. What we do with magic, her people do with mechanical devices.”  The fire spluttered fitfully and he got up to tend to it, adding logs along with a little magical ‘encouragement’ before adding thoughtfully, “I think I'd like to see her world. It seems so….strange. Strange, but interesting.”

Tristan rolled her eyes. She knew Haer‘Dalis enjoyed traveling the planes but the world that Jen had described to them didn’t seem like one that would be tolerant of strange beings who suddenly appeared, particularly not beings whose looks were as exotic as his own.   _Well, curiosity killed the cat._ Aloud she said, “Yes, an IN-tur-esting world. And I'm sure they'd think of you as IN-tur-esting given those tiefling features of yours. An IN-tur-esting monster, with IN-tur-esting hair[[3]](../../../javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_edn3)….!” She stopped as the enormity of the situation struck her anew. “Ye Gods, how am I going to get ri…send her back home?” She buried her head in her hands as he reseated himself beside her.

“Ah my Raven, you just wish you were as fine to look at as I…”  He ducked under her playful blow with a laugh then became serious again.  “But in answer to your question, I think you forget the IN-tur-esting necklace she carries. A portal gem or I miss my guess.”

“A portal gem? What's that?” asked Tristan.

“It's a gem that helps planewalkers find the portals between planes. Remember why you were searching for me in Athkatla?”

Tristan snorted. “Searching? Rescuing you, you mean!”

He flushed slightly, a look of embarrassment creeping over his handsome face.  “Ah yes. _Rescuing_ me.   _Anyway_ , as you well know, our dear friend Mekrath was after the Sigil Troupe’s portal gem which I happened to be carrying.” Haer'Dalis looked at her, his expression unusually serious. “He had some rather…disreputable plans as I understand it and wanted to have a quick and readily available exit, preferably to another plane, as needed.”

“While I understand his desire for escape, I’m not sure I understand what you’re getting at or how this relates to Jen.” 

“Essentially, my Raven, when a walker nears a portal, the stone grows warm – it may even glow. The portal gem will help identify the doorway and serves as the key to open it – and I think that's what happened to our young friend.”

“Then why didn’t she just turn around and go back?” Tristan knew she sounded irritable and her feelings were rather unreasonable – she _had_ made the choice to take Jen with them after all.  Living by a code of chivalry was _so_ tiresome – and inconvenient at times.  She wished she could behave more like the tiefling beside her whose behavior was frequently spurred more by curiosity and self-interest than any sort of altruism.

Haer ‘Dalis shook his head.  “It's not so easy, my Raven. You have to know how to _use_ the gem. You see, portals are doors between the planes. They can be anywhere. ANY space with a boundary on all sides can be a door to other places. And each door has its own key and keys can be anything too – an emotion, a sound, a thought, an object held a certain way. But a portal gem – well, that can open up _any_ portal – but you _do_ have to know how to activate it. The stones are rare and _very_ valuable.”

“So, Jen could have opened the portal in her world by just picking up the portal gem and holding it a certain way or thinking certain thoughts,” said Tristan slowly, “and now can't get back because she doesn't really know how to use it.”

“You have the right of it, my wise Raven. Our little Finch cannot return to her own world unless she can find the both door leading back and the key that fits it OR figures out how to open a door using the master key.” He rose to tend the fire again before turning back to Tristen and saying in an understanding tone, “This Sparrow would be willing relieve you of your problem should you wish – it _could_ be quite entertaining to lead our fledgling back to her door and help her use the key. And perhaps,” he added with a wolfish grin, “if I open the door and ask _very nicely_ , she'll invite me in.”

\----------------------------------

[[1]](../../../javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_ednref1) Secret organization of wizards in Amn.  <http://forgottenrealms.wikia.com/wiki/Cowled_Wizards>

[[2]](../../../javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_ednref2) William Shakespeare, Hamlet (III, i.65-68)

[[3]](../../../javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_ednref3) Yes, I _was_ channeling a Bugs Bunny episode here.


	3. Homeward Bound

Jen sat at the edge of the clearing kicking her heels against a tree stump, watching as Tristan and her crew completed their packing.  She’d spent a restless night shivering under her borrowed blanket from a combination of cold and anxiety.  She’d always thought of herself as a rather capable person, well able to cope with whatever life threw at her by applying a combination of logic and humor. However, she found little that amused her in her current circumstances.  She felt isolated and alone for the first time in her life; a feeling she certainly wasn’t enjoying and didn’t know how to resolve. Although she was glad to have found Tristan and her party, their company wasn’t precisely reassuring.

After joining them she’d spent the evening in the small and stuffy shelter talking – being grilled, really – about her inadvertent journey. The two knights and Tristan had been kind enough although she’d noticed Anomen, the younger knight seemed to be somewhat thin-skinned judging from his constant and usually defensive reactions to any and all observations that ran counter to his own. Jaheira had been brisk and rather motherly, making sure she ate and digging out an extra blanket for her.

The morning sun finally penetrated the trees, its thin rays reaching to where she sat and providing a modicum of heat. She was grateful for the warmth, particularly after such a cold, wet night but wished she could do something useful. _I’d be warmer if I was working and it would probably help me feel better._ However, after stuffing her few belongings in her pack she’d been shooed off to the side of the camp by Jaheira to watch and worry about what came next. The previous night’s discussion had ended without a firm plan of action although Tristan had been clear that Jen should remain with them for the time being.

Lost in thought, she didn’t hear the tiefling, Haer‘Dalis, approach until he was standing in front of her. The sound of his voice, mellifluous though it was, surprised her and she jumped, nearly falling off the stump.  “This Sparrow has been sent to request your presence,” he said, reaching out to steady her. “My intent was not to startle you but to convey an invitation. I believe the current discussion will be of interest as it affects your immediate future, little Finch.”

She stared at him, noting the way the sun glinted off the beads artfully woven into tufts of long and bright blue hair. Handsome, although distinctly alien, his skin was dark, with an almost olive cast to it and with the sun shining directly on him, she saw he had several dark red lines under his cheekbones and running down his chin.  Under the light of day, she realized they were not tattoos as she’d thought the night before but natural patterning much like the stripes on a tiger.  She flushed, realizing she was staring rather rudely, but he didn't seem to notice as he waited for her to respond. 

 _Little Finch is it?_ She’d noticed his penchant for referring to the others as various types of birds or even animals so it seemed entirely appropriate to respond in kind. “Of course,” she replied, looking up at him, “I'll be right with you, O Peacock.”

He grinned at the retort, throwing up his hand in a fencer's gesture. “Ha!” he said, “Perhaps the kestrel is closer to your true nature.”  She grinned back; glad he hadn’t minded her teasing retort. Her brief observation of the party had shown her that the majority of its members seemed to be extremely serious. Using humor was comforting and allowed her to feel almost normal _._ She greatly preferred people with a sense of fun and had already noticed that in this group, only Tristan and Haer ‘Dalis seemed to qualify.

She rose, following him across the camp.  At their approach, Tristan looked up. “Ah there you are.  We’re about ready to leave but first, I know you're wondering how to get back to your home. I've been wondering what to do as well, since I feel we can hardly leave you out here alone. However, there is hope. Last night Haer'Dalis told me that he thinks the necklace you showed us is something called a portal gem – a stone that opens doors between what we call planes although I think you might call them worlds. We think you must have activated the gem when you picked it up and it opened a door from your world into Amn.”

“Oh!” said Jen, her face brightening. She looked at Haer’Dalis, figuring he was the most knowledgeable. “Then it should simply be a matter of turning around and going back, right?”

“Yes, if you can activate the stone again.”

“Or,” Tristan added, “If one of _us_ can open the door for you.” She looked at Haer'Dalis. “Can you do it?”

He shrugged and held out his hand for the necklace which Jen obligingly dug out of her pocket.  As he took it, a look of intense concentration came over his face. His lips moved silently for a few moments and the golden lines in the stone begin to glow. Jen stepped closer to him just in case something happened, but after a few moments he stopped, allowing the lines to dull before handing it back. He looked at Tristan.

“As you see, my Raven, I believe I can use the stone. However, we must return to the area containing Jen's portal so I can be sure she goes out of the same door she came in.” He winked. "In fact, I may well have to go with her – just to be sure she arrives safely, of course. Ah such a dilemma – to continue with you on your grand quest or go off on my own to seek out new worlds and new civilizations -- to boldly go where no tiefling has gone before!”

“How that one became become a spell-casting bard given his propensity for jumping between subjects or dashing from one place to another, much like a cat chasing a bird, I’ll never know,” Jaheira muttered.

Tristan shook her head at Jaheira, but couldn’t quite suppress the amused smile that snuck across her face.  “I'd hate to lose you, Haer 'Dalis, but you must follow your own star.” She turned to Jen, “We'll go back to the area in which your door is located– as Haer‘Dalis says, we want to make sure you arrive safely.”

Jen nodded slowly. “Thank you. I hate to put you to the trouble of going back with me, but after yesterday, I have to agree that the wilds of Amn don’t seem particularly safe. I just wish there were an easier way to get home, but I guess there's not.”   She clicked her heels together surreptitiously muttering, “There's _no_ _place_ like home. There's _no_ _place_ like home. _Damn_. It _doesn’t_ work.”

She flushed, realizing from astonished looks on the faces around her, that she’d spoken out loud. Only Haer'Dalis appeared unsurprised, instead looking greatly amused.

“Ah Kestrel, so your world knows that story too?”

She gave him a surprised look. “Uh - you mean, _you_ know this story?  Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz?”

“Ah yes! The story of the Wizard who inadvertently teleported people from many worlds into his own and the heroic attempts of young Dorothea to find her way home – in fact, **‘** tis not entirely dissimilar to your own tale, it seems.”

Jen grinned, wondering briefly if they shared other stories.  Perhaps they did, thanks to other visitors – or _planetravelers_ as they seemed to be called here _._ Certainly there had been at least one, given the gem she’d found.  Turning back to Tristan, she said, “I‘m quite ready to go.”

It was early afternoon by the time the party drew close to the spot where Jen had first entered Amn. Jen spent much of the journey talking with Haer'Dalis who asked her any number of questions about her home. He seemed to be set on accompanying her through the portal although she didn’t quite understand why.  For some reason this concerned her and she found herself trying to dissuade him. She was certain that his appearance – particularly his weapons and physical features would draw attention – at least some of which would be unpleasant.  For although his bluish hair and earrings might seem rather unremarkable to many people, she really didn't know how the tattoo-like markings on his face or his furled and pointed ears could possibly be hidden or explained away.

 _“_ We’ve been talking for hours and yet I don’t think you understand how different my world – Earth – is from this one.  We don’t use magic or weapons – at least not like the ones you’re carrying.  And there are so many rules.  A friend of mine who fences as a hobby was arrested because he had a rapier in his uh – vehicle, so what do you think will happen if you’re caught carrying those?”  She pointed at his twin swords.

“My Kestrel, each plane offers its own unique dangers. This Sparrow has evaded snares on many worlds and if perchance this time the trap closes, so be it.  Entropy rules all; things do end and eventually, so must I.”  She looked at him in some surprise for his tone was inordinately cheerful as if he looked forward to the thought of death.

 _She shrugged._   
_I really am wasting my breath and I’m probably blowing all of this out of proportion. He'd probably end up a celebrity on some sort of weird reality TV show – didn’t I hear someone referring to him as an actor last night?_

They continued walking for some time until finally, a low rumble – the sound of water dashing against rocks - penetrated the forest’s stillness, signaling they had nearly reached their destination.  The sound also prompted Jen to realize that the journey had passed very quickly, in no small part thanks to Haer’Dalis’s conversation and she wondered if his inquisitiveness had been intentional; perhaps even intended as a distraction as well as to sate his obvious curiosity.  She hadn’t gotten the impression that he was particularly altruistic but she was grateful nonetheless.

They came across the creek shortly thereafter, following it towards the sound. As they drew closer, a faint sense of excitement and intense relief crept over Jen. She increased her pace, moving past Tristan, her eyes searching for any geographic feature that looked even vaguely familiar, finally stopping as she reached the falls. “This is it.  This is where I came out. I’m sure of it!”

“Here?”  Tristan looked around.  Water was falling from at least fifteen feet above them, running over a rock overhang. Large flat rocks grew out of the bank along both sides of the broad creek, channeling the falling water into a large deep pool.  “It seems pretty deep.  Why weren’t you wet when we found you?”

“See how the rocks for sort of a basin for the water? Well they go under the falls sort of like stepping stones. Over there - closer to the cliff,” Jen pointed. “Look, I’ll show you.”  She clambered down the embankment, walking towards the falls. As she drew closer to the cliff face, she stepped out into the water, placing her feet carefully on the series of rocks just below its surface.  Haer’Dalis dropped his pack on the bank and followed, his eyes searching for something under the rock overhang.  “So Kestrel, is this the spot?”

She nodded, reaching into her pocket for the necklace.  “Here. See if you can make it work.” 

He took it and began focusing on the stone. She saw his lips move slightly as they had the first time he examined the stone. All at once he stopped. “There is a door here.  Are you sure you’re ready?”  She nodded again.

“Wait,” he said. “I’ll be right back.  He made his way back across the rock bridge, stopping to pick up his pack and speak briefly with Tristan.  As Jen watched, the young woman clapped Haer’Dalis on the back and then stood with the rest of the party, watching as he returned to Jen and began to chant under his breath once again in strangely discordant tones. As soon as the stone began to pulse, Jen stepped closer, putting her hand on Haer’Dalis’s arm watching carefully as the stone flashed in a familiar way and the air around them began to shimmer. As the opening appeared, she peered through and thought she saw someone standing on other side. _Beth?_ _No it couldn’t be.  I’ve been gone at least a day. It must be my imagination._  The portal continued to shimmer, blurring everything in front of her as if she were looking through a window covered with sheer curtains. As she stepped forward, the ground began to moving, shaking slightly at first and then with increasing strength. She heard voices calling loudly from somewhere behind.  One of the voices sounded like Tristan’s, but since she couldn’t figure out why Tristan would be calling to her at this point, she ignored the sound, focusing instead on the gap in front of her which was growing clearer and allowing her to see that he person on the other side was indeed her friend.  

“Beth!” she screamed joyfully, “Beth! It's me –it's Jen! I'm coming!!” Stepping past Haer’Dalis, she tried to shove her way into the cave.  She heard a loud rumbling and felt hands grabbing her and pulling her back. She fought, struggling to thrust herself through the portal as pain blossomed across the back of her head and things went dark.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

The rescue team had searched the cave and surrounding area thoroughly. Although Beth had sounded the alarm almost immediately, few clues had been found to indicate that Jen had even been in the area much less to her disappearance. In fact, if it hadn't been for search dogs clearly identifying her scent on the trail, the ground near the river and inside the cave, the hunt for her would have ended after the first few hours.

At this point, with the team turning up nothing and all possibilities exhausted, the deputy in charge had decided it was time to regroup. None of the pieces fit, although the entire situation – a woman disappearing without a trace – was highly suspicious. Her friend had been questioned at length after the disappearance was first reported but her story, at least at this point, seemed unshakeable.  The two women had been hiking together, found a cave, went in, her friend went out and disappeared.  He still suspected Beth who was the last person to see Jen. Although she seemed nice enough he had been in law enforcement long enough to know that personal gentility had no bearing on the ability to commit or not commit a crime.  He didn't really want to face the young woman's family and give them the news but he knew when it was time to quit wasting the Search and Rescue team’s time and taxpayers' money.  He could see Jenessa Griffith’s parents and her friend near the command center. _Might as well get it over with_ _, he thought and headed towards them_.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As she watched the team packing its equipment in preparation for the trek back to civilization, Beth felt sick with disappointment. She had been sure there would be _some_ explanation – some clue – to explain where Jen had gone as well. She’d also hoped for something – _anything_ – to alleviate the deputy’s obvious suspicions about her own role in Jen’s disappearance. She’d spent hours at the local Sheriff’s office the day before and had actually received a “ _don’t leave town_ ” warning at the end. The sheriff’s deputy on site hadn’t been exactly welcoming when she’d turned up that morning, but he hadn’t turned her away either and she felt she needed to be there. She had known Jen for years – since elementary school – and she wanted to be with her family both for their comfort as well as her own. _Jen wouldn't give up so easily – especially not after only a day._ Jen’s parents were standing near the command center when she arrived. She was relieved to find that Jen’s mother at least still seemed to believe in her innocence for she greeted Beth with a hug and then stood with an arm around her as they watched the proceedings.  Beth wished there was something more she could do but nothing came to her.

Finally, feeling restless and needing to move, she decided to pay a last visit to the cave. She headed towards, it ducking under the waterfall only to be stopped by a search team member. She turned, intending to go back to the bank when the light in front of her flickered and the air began to shimmer.  Looking up she saw figures – two people – one of whom looked familiar. 

“Jen!” she yelled, “Jen! Over here! We're over here!!” One of the people turned towards her and Beth could clearly see her friend in the opening standing behind a male figure.

The woman waved at Beth and seemed to be calling so Beth shouted again only to be interrupted by the deputy splashing across the creek towards her.

“Where is it? What do you see?” he demanded, grabbing her arm. She pointed. “There – don't you see her? In the doorway – it’s Jen!  _Now_ will you believe me?  Someone’s with her. A man, I think, but….”    A loud rumble cut off the rest of her words and as the ground began shaking, she stumbled and then began to run, the deputy holding her arm as they threw themselves out from under the water, scrambling to get to the river bank.  

Chaos ensued for the next several minutes as people clutched at trees and equipment. Looking back towards the cave, Beth saw that once again, there was no sign of anyone or anything; just water flowing over the rocks and splashing into the pool below. She looked over to find the deputy staring at her rather grimly and she knew she was likely in for another bout of questioning.  

“I definitely think it's time we wrapped this up,” he said firmly. “I have a few questions about what you thought you saw back there so come with me miss.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When Jen came to she was lying on the ground with Anomen bent over her, chanting and waving his hands. She looked up at him groggily, feeling a tingling sensation sweep across her body. Her head cleared almost immediately and she sat up, feeling considerably and suddenly better.  She smiled at him in thanks, taking his outstretched hand to support herself as she rose to her feet and noticing that the brace under her fingers appeared badly scratched.  She looked up at him and noticed other scratches and dents in the armor on his shoulders and chest.   _That's funny,_ _how could that have happened in such a short time? I swear his armor seemed much shinier – almost new in fact - this morning._

“Wha' happened?”

“An earthquake started just after Haer'Dalis opened the portal and the two of you started to step through. Luckily Keldorn and I realized what was happening and managed to pull you out before you were trapped behind the rock slide," he said. "You got hit by falling rock. I don’t know exactly what happened but at this point, I'd have to say that your door home has been closed _and_ locked.”

There was a roaring in her ears making it difficult to hear as she tried to process Anomen’s words.  “Closed! Oh God!  No way home?" She tried to draw in a mouthful of air, but her lungs seemed to have no room.   _Calm. Must remain calm. If you can’t breathe in, then breathe out. _She focused on breathing, blowing out to rid her lungs of excess air and create space for the next breath in. _Not going to faint. _

_“_ Hardly the most tactful way to tell her, lad,” she thought she heard Keldorn say. 

It occurred to her that she hadn’t been alone.  She looked around. "Uh, Haer'Dalis?”

“He's fine milady,” said Anomen firmly. “That one is like a bad coin – he'll always turn up.”

 “Yes, this Sparrow is ready to fly,” interjected the bard from somewhere behind her, “and hopes that you, Kestrel, will soon be ready to soar as well. As for _you,_ Dog…."

Tristan waved her hand sharply at him, effectively stopping what appeared to be the beginnings of a heated exchange. “Enough!” she said. “Clearly we’ve failed. At this point all we can do is take Jen back to Athkatla with us. We can use the time as we’re traveling to figure out some way for her to fend for herself since she’s stuck in Amn for the time being.”

There was something about hearing the words, “ _she’s stuck in Amn,”_ that made her predicament suddenly become very real. Jen felt the weight of truth rushing over her, crushing her beneath it and she felt sick.  _Not to see my parents or friends again. To be separated from everything that I love_. She’d been able to push away the possibility of no return since the morning because she’d had hope. Now it was gone. She was alone and dependent upon the goodwill of complete strangers. Jen had been brought up to stand on her own two feet. She was used to taking charge, not feeling helpless but the sudden change in her circumstances was overwhelming.  She sank to the ground, burying her face in her hands as tears rose to her eyes.

"I have no place to go," she choked out between sobs.

A hand dropped to her shoulder, squeezing comfortingly. “Don't worry,” said Nalia. “I’m here for you.  Helping others is important to me.  And besides, I bet Tristan’ll help you just like she helped me. She always figures something out.”

“There _are_ other doors to your world,” added Haer 'Dalis, “we just have to find them.”


	4. No Way Out

The failed attempt to get Jen home seemed to have soured everyone’s mood.  They retraced their steps, heading back towards their previous night’s shelter.  Little was said on the journey back; even the seemingly irrepressible Haer’Dalis remained largely silent, although their passage through the woods could hardly be called quiet given that most of the group was clad in armor which creaked and jangled as they walked. Jen trudged up the trail blindly, lifting her feet almost by rote as she followed Nalia. She felt cold and ill; her mind frozen as Tristan’s words, “she’s stuck in Amn,” continued to ring in her ears.  Her parents had taught her to view setbacks as opportunities but at the moment she was finding it difficult to come up with _anything_ positive about her situation.

The trees thinned out creating an opening which proved to be the clearing in which they had spent the previous evening.  Light was beginning to fade in the sky above them and the air had a cool crispness, signaling evening’s approach.

“It’s been a rather difficult day and it’ll be dark soon.  I think we’ve gone far enough.”  Tristan put down her heavy pack and stretched.  “Won’t be too difficult to make camp given that our shelter’s still largely in intact.”

“I agree,” said Jaheira. Her own pack dropped to the group with a heavy thump. “Best to rest now and start early on the morrow.” 

“But…” Nalia’s protest was cut short by Jaheria’s stern look as the druid rounded on her.

“Do _not_ argue, young woman. We’re tired, our young friend is in shock and you know as well as I that it will take at _least_ another day to reach Athkatla. It won’t kill you to spend another night or two in the woods although _I_ might kill you if you continue to complain.”

The two women locked eyes. Nalia broke contact first, tossing her head as she turned away.  “I’ll just go gather some wood for the fire while you set up camp.” She grabbed Jen’s arm as she went past. “C’mon, you can help me. It will take your mind off things.” 

Jen followed as Nalia began searching the area just beyond the campsite looking suitable pieces of wood while muttering under her breath about Jaheira’s high handedness. Although the clearing was surrounded by the remains of fallen trees, most pieces were either the size of kindling or too large. After looking around for a while Nalia stopped by the remains of a large tree.  “Stand back.”

“Huh?”

“Stand back!”  Nalia made an impatient gesture behind her.  “Since there doesn’t seem to be anything of a suitable size lying on the ground, I’m going to break this up into smaller pieces.”  As Jen stepped back, she concentrated on the log, her hands moving in an intricate pattern. Red light blossomed abruptly from between her fingers blasting the log in front of her, the noise of its disintegration reverberating off the trunks around them. Nalia grinned in satisfaction as she began picking up the resulting small and medium sized pieces of wood and carrying them back to the clearing’s edge.  Jen joined her, working in silence as she listened to Nalia’s incessant flow of chatter, now primarily regarding her dislike of sleeping in the outdoors. 

Jen tried to listen but the words seemed to simply bounce off, refusing to be absorbed or heard.  Therefore it was with some surprise that she realized Nalia had stopped and seemed to be waiting for response.  “Uh…I’m sorry.  I guess I didn’t hear you.”

“I noticed. You seem very quiet.”

“Yeah, well I’ve just found I’ve got no way out of here.  I _can’t_ _go_ _home_.  So I guess it’s not _terribly_ surprising that I’m quiet, is it?” she snapped, flushing as Nalia’s affronted look made it clear how she must have sounded. _She’s trying to be nice.  No need to bite her head off._  “I’m sorry,” she said in a calmer tone.  “I didn’t realize I was so angry. That didn’t come out right.” 

Her quick apology received its intended reward for Nalia smiled sympathetically at her.  “It’s alright. I do understand why you’d be upset and I’m _so_ sorry this has happened.”  She shifted the log in her arms to free up a hand and pat Jen on the shoulder.

Jen shook her head. “No, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You’re being very kind – all of you - helping a perfect stranger. I’m just scared.  It’s just…well, I’ve kind of feel like I’ve lost everything; my family, my home, friends. I don’t know what I’m going to do but I know I don’t want to be a burden on anyone and that’s what I am now; a burden.”

Nalia’s armload of wood thudded to the ground as she reached out, taking Jen’s hands in hers and squeezing comfortingly. Jen normally wasn’t big on being touched but for some reason she found herself not minding when Nalia continued to hold her hands.  “Awwww. When you’re used to taking care of yourself, it _is_ hard to ask for help.  I know that.” She looked at Jen consideringly, clearly thinking about how to explain. “You know, my parents taught me that it was my job to take care of others; that the privilege of being a noblewoman comes with responsibilities.  I am very used to helping others but not used to taking it. So when my family needed help, I didn’t know what to do. Then I found Tristan.”

“Is that what you were doing when you found me?”

“Without her, I would _never_ have been able to drive out the monsters that invaded my home and killed my father.” Nalia’s lips trembled and her eyes filled with tears. She released Jen’s hands hastily to wipe her eyes.

It was Jen’s turn to offer comfort and she did so, reaching out to awkwardly pat Nalia’s shoulder. “I’m very sorry to hear that.  Do you have other family in Athkatla?”

“No. I’m the only one.” Nalia straightened. “But I didn’t tell you so you could feel sorry for me. I just wanted to let you know that I really do understand and I’m willing to help if I can.”  She smiled rather wanly at Jen who returned it with a smile of her own. 

 _Poor Nalia. It’s hard to be without family. I know I feel a bit lost without them right now.  Mom always says that when one door closes another one opens.  I hope that will be true – both literally and figuratively.  Right now I can’t change what’s happened but I can find ways to take care of myself._ The thought gave her strength somehow for although she couldn’t explain it something seemed to click into place. Even if nothing had changed, she felt that she was able to see more clearly in the growing dusk.  _It’s not going to be easy but I’ll survive. Somehow._

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The conversation with Nalia did its work and Jen returned to camp in much better spirits than when she’d left. For the first part of the evening she’d found herself maintaining a pleasantly sociable presence, insisting upon taking part in the party’s meal preparation and clean-up.  She’d often found staying busy to be a good way to avoid over thinking her problems and at this point it also helped her avoid being dragged down by feelings of loss when she really needed to figure out how to move forward.  So it wasn’t until darkness fell and she sat on the ground next to the campfire, staring into the flames that she found her earlier feelings of misery returning.

This time her thoughts were less about her own predicament and more about that of her parents.  Her worries were rather guilt-tinged for she knew in many ways she’d brought the current mess on herself. _If only I hadn’t insisted on going into the cave I wouldn’t be here._ She remembered what it had been like after her brother had died.  _Mom and Dad must be going through hell right now. They’ve already lost one child, how are they going to handle losing the other one?_ Still, it wasn’t a problem she could readily solve no matter how much she worried. In the meantime, thinking of her brother did nothing except make her feel even more upset none which would do anything to help her find a way to survive in Amn or get back to her real life.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Tristan. “I know this probably isn’t the time for much of an in-depth discussion, but I was wondering if you could tell me a little about yourself. Something that might help me – _us –_ think about what to do when we get back to Amn.” 

 _You mean what you’re going to do about me **.**_ Aloud she said, “Ok.  Although I’m more interested in thinking about how to get home.” She looked Haer’Dalis sitting at one side of the fire engaged in sharpening and polishing his swords.  “You said something back by the waterfall about finding other doors. What did you mean?”

“Just that, my Kestrel,” he replied looking up briefly before returning his attention to the weapon in front of him. “There are many doors and conduits leading from Faerun to other planes although it may be a challenge to find them. But ‘tis a discussion best left for our return to the resources of Athkatla. I know of a few places where such information may be found.”

“In the meantime,” Tristan said firmly, “we need to start thinking about how you can sustain yourself.  It’s clear you’ve not the martial skills to travel with us, so what do we do with you?”

“What do women do in Amn? Do they work?” Jen realized she knew nothing about how women were viewed here.

“Certainly. What is it that you do?” 

“Well at home I was a math teacher.  While I don’t know how your education system works, there are other things I could do.  I’m not afraid of hard work.  Lessee, I’ve been a bookkeeper, I’ve worked in retail…” She was interrupted by Tristan.

“What is this “rhe-tale?”

“Selling things.  In a store or a shop.  Like clothes or food.”

“Ah, a merchant.”  Tristan nodded thoughtfully.  “Anomen, isn’t your father a merchant?”

“Yes, milady but he can be of no use to us!” Anomen’s spoke sharply, his eyes growing angry and hard.  He’d been sitting next to Tristan, listening to the conversation but now he jumped his feet, his face flushing with anger and embarrassment. “He has his own concerns at the moment.”  He began pacing in front of the fire in some agitation, clearly not wanting to pursue the subject.

“Lord Cor is not the only merchant in Amn. And Anomen’s right, asking his father would create more difficulties than it would resolve I fear, however I may have some connections in that regard.”  Keldorn said calmly.  He smiled at Tristan, “We don’t have to solve this tonight you know.  It helps just knowing that our young visitor has something to offer and is not afraid to work.”  He reached up to briefly pat Anomen’s arm.  The younger man looked at him, his angry look beginning to soften.  After a moment he resumed his seat.

“I’m willing to do just about anything…well, _nearly_ anything that is,” Jen said. “But you’re right; we don’t have to nail things down tonight.”

Beside her Nalia gave a sudden bounce, almost knocking her over. “Wait! I just thought of something! Well, it _might_ be something anyway.”  She smiled so happily that Jen suddenly had a vision of a little girl standing with her hands eagerly clasped in front of her.  Everyone looked at Nalia, waiting for her to explain. “My former nanny lives in Athkatla. She’s getting up in years and might be looking for someone to live with her.  I know she doesn’t want to move in with her daughter.  And if she doesn’t need anyone, she may know of someone who does!”  Nalia beamed; clearly delighted with her solution. 

A brief but lively discussion broke out between Nalia and Tristan as they considered the possibilities.  Jen however, began to yawn. It was getting late and she was tired. As was usual with yawns, hers was infectious. 

“Looks like it’s time to draw lots for watch,” Tristan said, reaching behind to gather up a handful of pine needles.  “Short straw gets the first watch and the rest of us had better turn in. We have a long walk ahead of us tomorrow.


	5. Athkatla

Jen sprawled across the dining room window seat looking out at the cottage’s pleasant little garden and watching the sun go down. Life here was slower and much more primitive, at least from her perspective, for there was no running water, no electricity or gas and no telephone.  She’d been in Athkatla for nearly a month now, living with Nalia’s former Nanny. While grateful for the position, she’d initially found it difficult to maintain a positive attitude but now she had to admit that she felt better or at least perhaps more optimistic about her fate.  Still, the quiet sounds and scents of evening – the fragrance of roasting meat coming from nearby houses, children being called home for dinner, crickets starting to chirp – all things which normally communicated comfort, now tended to remind her of how far away she was from her _own_ home, prompting feelings of melancholy. And in addition to the change of living conditions and loss of family, Jen missed her social life, which had been extremely active.  She liked Nanny Bea, but it was difficult not to feel the loss of her former life, particularly when feeling as bored and lonely as she was right now. _Honestly, if it wasn’t for Nalia and Haer’Dalis coming around, I’d go completely out of my mind._

It was at times like this that she found that she particularly missed her two best friends, Franny and Beth. They’d often met after work to unwind and have dinner together. _Not that there’s much to unwind from right now. I’m just bored._ And thinking of Beth and Franny also reminded her of Ryan.  He hadn’t _exactly_ been her boyfriend, yet he had certainly been well on his way to becoming more than a friend. They’d known each other for several years – since their freshman year of college to be exact – frequently hanging out but never very seriously until a couple of months ago.  They had similar interests, he was funny, very nice to look at _and_ he had nice hands.  She always noticed men’s hands for some reason.  She sighed wistfully, picturing him for a moment before the thought - _Haer’Dalis has nice hands too –_ brought warmth to her cheeks. _Where the hell did that come from? _

She didn’t have much time to consider it however as she was interrupted by the sound of Nanny Bea’s voice calling to her from the far end of the house.  Pulling herself up and off the window seat, she headed for the kitchen where she found her employer busily making tea. 

”There you are child! Would you be kind enough to help me with the kettle?” Jen smiled and went over to lift the heavy pot off its hook over the fire.  Grabbing a nearby towel to shield her fingers, she raised it, carefully pouring hot water into Nanny’s large, brightly colored teapot.

Bea Ducey was an older woman who had spent much of her life in service, raising first Nalia’s mother and then Nalia herself in addition to having a family of her own.  Although still quite energetic, age was taking its toll. She was a tiny little thing, several inches shorter than Jen; so short in fact, that she could almost be mistaken for a halfling. Jen knew she’d had a couple of bad falls in recent months and that her daughters were beginning to make noise over the fact that she lived alone. _Probably why she agreed so easily to Nalia’s request that I stay here; it allows her to remain independent._ Nanny loved to laugh and “visit” as she called it, talking constantly about her garden, her grandchildren and her former life with the D'Arnise family.

“You’ve been rather somber today, my dear.  I know it’s not very exciting to live with an old lady like myself.  Where’s young Nalia? I’m surprised she hasn’t been to see you this week.” Nanny looked curiously at Jen who noticed that she _hadn’t_ asked about Haer’Dalis although he too had been a relatively frequent visitor of late.  At first he’d come with Nalia although more recently he’d been turning up on his own, presumably to help Jen continue her search for a way home although she noticed their conversations turning more and more frequently to other things.

“Dunno exactly,” Jen replied. “Nalia said something about looking for missing people. I think that’s why Haer’Dalis hasn’t been around either.”

Nanny snorted. “I don’t miss that one’s presence for a moment. There’s no good that comes from encouraging a tiefling, you know.”  She’d made such comments to Jen on several occasions recently and Jen noticed that although Nanny was scrupulously polite to Haer’Dalis’s face, she always seemed to be watching him covertly as if she thought him likely to either harm one of the two young women, _or_ heaven-forbid, pinch her few – and highly prized pieces of silverware.

“Nanny,” Jen began cautiously.

Nanny Bea looked up. “What is it my dear?”

“I’m wondering about something.  That is, I’m wondering about Haer’Dalis.  I mean, I’ve noticed that people here make remarks about tieflings and well…even though he seems nice enough to me, you don’t seem to like him much.”  Her voice trembled slightly and she felt mildly astonished at how difficult it had been to ask the questions.  _I just don’t want Nanny to think I’m criticizing her and get mad at me. Not after she’s been nice enough to give me a place to live._

Nanny froze briefly, giving Jen the fleeting impression of a trapped animal.  Finally she said, “What do you mean?” 

“There are lots of different types of people where I come from and we certainly make assumptions. But this feels like something more. Maybe it’s the way people refer to ‘tieflings’ that seems to imply some kind of common knowledge or …I dunno. _Something._..” She shook her head thoughtfully, pressing her lips together, “There are so many things here that are different.  I’ve never seen an elf or a halfling before and we’ve never heard of tieflings.  So all I’ve got to go on is experience and instinct which may doesn’t work as well here because it’s so different.”

Nanny patted her arm sympathetically. “I know, dear.” Her look turned thoughtful. “Well, I guess the easiest way to explain is to say that folks like your friend Haer’Dalis make people uncomfortable.  Most people don’t know much more than that, but I’ve heard it said that tieflings have a little bit of nastiness in their family tree.  A bit of demon blood as it were. And he’s a magic user. I don’t know the truth but I’m old enough to have learned to trust my instincts and my instincts say he can’t be trusted.”

“Well I don’t know anything about deals with the devil or demon blood, but what about Nalia? She’s a magic user.”

Nanny sighed.  “There are magic users and then there are magic users, child.  Nalia’s sort is different; more…benign.”

 _And witches are women who have congress with the devil. If I were home, I’d think it was just some kind of cultural superstition, but here…magic really does exist._ She knew _she_ didn’t feel uncomfortable around him. At least not in the way Nanny did. Aloud she said, “I’m trying to be careful Nanny. It’s just…so _confusing._ You know,” she added thoughtfully, “when I was growing up I was always told that people should be judged on their actions, not on one’s assumptions about them.  And this feels like an assumption. I mean, from what I’ve seen, Haer’Dalis hasn’t done anything particularly wicked or untrustworthy.”

“I know.” Nanny gave Jen a kindhearted look. “He’s pays attention to you, he’s good looking, he’s charming, he says he’s trying to help you – it’s hard not to be taken in when there’s nothing and no one else to catch your attention.”

Jen winked at Nanny, “So you consider his trying to help me get home to be a _bad_ thing?” 

The older woman laughed. “Of _course_ _not._ But I would be foolish to think he might not have other motives as well.  It’s not all that complicated, you know. You’re a reasonably attractive young woman. He’s a man – or at least he’s male and like all males, most likely has his mind on one thing. That’s _another_ reason I’m telling you to be careful around him.  Something tells me he’s up to no good.”  She wasn’t to be swayed from this opinion and after a few more minutes Jen left it alone.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Darkness had fallen by the time Jen was able to return to her spot in the dining room. She’d joined Nanny for tea, eventually leaving her comfortably installed in her sitting room next to a small fire, knitting as was her wont.  Jen had joined her there in the past few evenings, talking or reading aloud, but tonight she didn’t feel she would be very good company so she had retreated back to her window seat which was beginning to feel like a place of refuge.  Given her mood, she’d lit only a couple of the room’s small, dim lamps before going back to staring out at the darkness, lost in thought.  A knock, followed a few moments later by the sound of the front door opening and footsteps coming down the hall brought her back to the present. 

“Why so quiet, my Kestrel?” 

She looked up, beaming. “Haer’Dalis! You’re back! Did Nanny let you in? And where’s Nalia?”  She peered eagerly past him then saw he was alone. “Oh. Guess Nalia’s not here.  Is she ok? It has been rather dull lately without either of you coming around. So, what’s new? Did you find your missing persons?”

He grinned at the rapid fire questions, and ignoring the room’s multiple chairs, pushed her legs off the window seat, sitting down beside her. “Ah, so many questions. Do you think this Sparrow is a town crier? Have you no other source of news?”

“Well, Nalia’s not here and Nanny’s daughters haven’t visited in at least two days so who else is there?”

“A fair question.  Nalia’s fine. She sends her greetings and says to tell you she’s delayed on family business. She’ll be by tomorrow most likely. Yes, we found the people – bodies at least as well as the killer.  A rather dangerous business in all for the killer turned out to be a shape changer – a skin dancer actually.”  He leaned back against the window, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.  “I wonder at Tristan, for though she claims her search for her sister to be of great import, our attention _does_ seem diverted frequently to other things.”

“Shape changer? What’s that?”

“A being who can take the form of another; borrow their skin as it were. A skin dancer can jump from corpse to corpse which makes it most difficult to kill. He overpowered Tristan at one point and she would have been lost had it not been for Anomen.” His tone became somewhat spiteful as he added, “It’s surprising how quickly a man his size can move if properly motivated!”

They exchanged knowing grins at his last words for even in the short time she’d traveled with the group Jen had noticed how frequently Anomen seemed to seek Tristan’s company.  “Bit of a mooncalf, that one,” Haer’Dalis said. “But fortunately for Tristan, a rather lethal mooncalf.”  He grimaced. “Still, I’m glad to be done with such an ugly business.”

“It _sounds_ ugly. Well, I'm glad it’s done and everyone is safe.  It’s rather selfish of me I know but I’ve been feeling pretty blue without you guys.  I don’t know what I’m going to do when you all go further afield. Nanny Bea is wonderful, but as much as I like her, this life is pretty dull. And I miss home.” She sighed. “I feel so ungrateful saying that but it’s true.”  She drew up her legs, resting her chin on her knees as she looked at him soberly.

His face softened. “I know,” he said gently. “That's why I came tonight. And I thought it might help to continue our discussion of planar travel. Knowledge is power after all and may help if you need to pursue this on your own.  Should oblivion overtake me before we find your path, that is.”

“Don’t say things like that!  You’ll be fine.”

“Ah, Kestrel, My Lady Death will not be denied in the end. But enough of that…shall we begin?”  He laced his fingers together in his lap and sat, looking at her expectantly. 

She found herself watching the movement − _Such nice hands. Long fingered, strong –_ then realized he was waiting. “Planar travel?” he prompted as she looked up.

“Uh – sure. Would you like some tea first?”  When he shook his head, she sat back, settling herself more comfortably in her seat and looked at him expectantly.

“Well,” he began, “do you remember what I told you about the Planes?”

“Going back to Astronomy 101 are we?  Ok, the Planes. Different planes of existence, many containing multiple worlds.  Faerun is one of the worlds of the central or Prime?  Yes, I remember.” 

He smiled encouragingly, “You’re an excellent student.  So there are many ways of traveling between the planes including portals, spells and conduits.”

“Conduits?”

“Conduits are shafts that connect the Primes to the Outer Planes,” he replied. “There are two types – young and mature. As conduits pass through the Astral Plane it is said that they twist and writhe like snakes, but fortunately the ends remain stable. Now, assuming a berk[[i]](http://archiveofourown.org/javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_edn1) steps through a mature conduit, he can depend upon ending up in pretty much the same place each time he comes and goes. But a berk stepping into a young conduit will find he doesn't have a way back.” He glanced at her. “Are you still with me?”

“Absolutely – Cliff Notes version – there are many ways to travel between the planes and using conduits is one of them. A mature conduit will allow one to go back and forth although a young conduit is a one way trip. Have it I got it so far?”

He ignored the unfamiliar reference and went on, “You do; now to continue the lesson −the only problem with mature conduits is that something unpleasant may well step through with you. One also has to understand the nature of conduits. There are those that go _between_ planes and those that go _through_ levels of the same plane. You can't pick where you're going to land either. You simply end up where the end of the conduit is anchored.”  He leaned back against the window and looked at her expectantly.

“Huh? I thought you said…   _Oh_ − never mind.” Jen sighed and turned to face him. “I get it. So, if the end of the conduit is anchored in say, Peoria, then that's where you'll land even though you really want to go to Portland. However, if you don't know where the end of the conduit is anchored, you don't know where you'll end up. Is that right?”

“The places you mention are unknown to me but in essence you have it. Now, the entrance to a conduit can't be seen – they are invisible unless you have some method or instrument to help you find them. And that’s where your planar gem will help.”

“Interesting. Wouldn’t it be easier to find a spellcaster that could send me home? The last time we talked you said something like that.” She grinned, “I’m really trying to envision what all these conduits would look like. On my planet, they’d probably be in regular use and costly to travel. At the very least there would be a toll!”

“Toll?” He looked puzzled.

“A toll is a use fee.”

“Ah.” He threw back his head, laughing heartily at the suggestion. “Well many beings come through the conduits and not all carry coin. And I doubt there are many who would be foolhardy enough to consider a discussion of fees with a Bhaalor or some of the other beings who use the conduits.”

She smiled back. “OK,” she said, “I have no idea what a Bhaalor is but I get that is isn’t something pleasant.  So what about maps − if people have been traveling the planes for so long, surely you have maps showing conduit locations?

He nodded. “True, there _are_ maps, but one must be cautious in the purchase for there are as many cheats as there are true mappings. Actually, I came tonight to do more than gossip, as delightful as that may be.  I have located a scholar living in Athkatla said to be a former planewalker. I believe he may be able to provide a map or at least information that will lead you back to your world.”

She jumped to her feet, looking at him in surprised irritation. “Why didn’t you say so at once!?” 

He pulled her back down beside him, retaining his hold on her hands as he responded in a soothing tone, “I knew you would be pleased but I also thought it best if you understood the risks. And that it may not result in success. There are many slips betwixt the cup and the lip as the saying goes.” His grip tightened slightly as his thumbs began to gently massage the backs of her hands.

His touch was all she’d expected. _Strong, supple fingers, very nice_.  Nanny’s earlier words flitted through her mind and she felt her face grow pink. He smiled knowingly, giving her fingers a last gentle squeeze before releasing them. She placed her hands carefully in her lap, trying to pretend that she wasn’t flushing like a middle-schooler on a first date as she said, “Ah. Well then, sorry I got excited.  So off to your scholar we'll go! Does he have a name?”

“He does. His name is Cambrel.” Haer’Dalis rose and stretched in a rather feline way before turning to give her a slight bow. “Now, I must be off my dear. However, I will return on the morrow and take you to him.”

 

* * *

[[i]](http://archiveofourown.org/javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_ednref1) Berk = fool; Voila’s Dictionary of Planar Cant, <http://www.mimir.net/cant/cant2.html>

 


	6. Destinations

Bright morning sun flooded the room, rousing Jen from sleep.  She rubbed her eyes sleepily and rolled over; burying her face in the pillow vainly hoping to block out the sun and snooze for just a little longer.  However, it was impossible so finally she yawned and stretched, cautiously sticking her right foot out from beneath the covers to test the air. _Not too cold._ No sounds came from the adjoining room. _Guess Nanny’s still asleep_. _I don’t have to get up yet._ And with that thought she drew a deep breath, forcing herself to relax as she did so her mind drifted back to the previous evening’s news. 

 _Haer’Dalis. Nice hands. He does have nice hands. Nicer than Ryan’s even. _The thought came out of nowhere and she felt herself growing warm; flushing at the thought just as she had the night before. But the fact that she _had_ noticed as well as the fact that thinking about it seemed to set her nerves aflutter made her wonder whether her embarrassment was due to Nanny’s warnings orbecause she was starting to like Haer’Dalis just a _teensy_ bit more than she was willing to admit. _It’s hard to tell,_ she thought, sighing to herself. _Still, I don’t need to be acting like a school girl with a crush. Besides, I’m going to leave soon, so there's no time to be starting anything._

And going home seemed far more possible this morning given that Haer’Dalis seemed to have found someone who might just be able to help her.  The thought energized her, waking her up completely. However, as eagerly as she anticipated the possibilities of the day, she knew it wouldn’t pay to get too excited.  _The man might not know anything. It might not work._

Now fully awake, she jumped out of bed, forcing herself into action which had the positive effect of stopping further reflection. She dressed quickly washing her face and attempting to comb her long brown hair.  The latter was slow-going as the comb kept encountering tangles. _Should have left it in a braid last night_ she thought grumpily as she worked through yet another snarl caught by the comb.

Finally ready, she glanced into the mirror for one last check before heading off to the kitchen where she set to work heating water, shaking tea into the teapot, slicing bread and putting out butter and jam. Nanny Bea would rise soon and Jen wanted to have her chores done so she would be ready to go as soon as Haer'Dalis arrived.

The teakettle began singing and simultaneously, Jen heard sounds emanating from Nanny Bea's room. She pulled the pothook away from the fire and then half-ran, half-walked into the bedroom just in time to help the older woman out of bed.

“Have you been awake long?” she asked.

“Not too long,” replied Nanny Bea with a smile. “I could hear you moving about in the kitchen and remembered that you're going out this morning.”  Her smile wavered slightly, “I know you’re eager to return to your family, but I _will_ miss you child.” 

Giving her an impulsive hug, Jen replied, “Awww...I know. Me too. I mean I’ll miss you too. You’ve been nothing but kind.” 

Nothing more was said about the possibility of Jen’s leaving until they were in the middle of breakfast and Nanny suddenly asked, “Is Nalia going with you today?”

“I don’t think so.  Haer’Dalis didn’t mention it although he did say she planned on coming over later.”

“So you’re going across town alone with him?  Child, you need to be more careful.”  Nanny’s brow furrowed as her face took on a worried look.

Jen managed not to roll her eyes but try as she might, she couldn’t quite manage to keep the pained note out of her voice. “Nanny! Didn’t we have this conversation yesterday? Why are you so constantly concerned about _me_? I mean, _Nalia_ travels with him. Why aren’t you worried about _her?_

 _“_ Nalia,” Nanny replied in a slightly acerbic tone, “knows what’s due her rank and family. She’s traveling with a group and when she’s come here from the _Five Flagons_ , she’s had a maid accompany her as you well know.  And before you ask, _yes_ o _f course_ , I’m concerned that she’s continued to travel with that band of adventurers.” She patted Jen’s hand then reached over to pick up the teapot and pour herself a second cup of tea. “I know you both think differently but appearances _are_ important.  But right now I’m more concerned about your safety.”

 _Didn’t I leave my mother was back on Earth?_ Jen wondered _._ Aloud she said, “I understand. Don’t worry; things will be fine. You’ll see.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jen was putting away the remains of breakfast when she heard a knock at the front door followed a few seconds by the sound of a pleasant tenor voice. She quickly finished her clean up and hurried into the sitting room where she found Haer’Dalis exchanging pleasantries with Nanny. He looked up with a smile as she entered the room and she greeted him cheerfully in return, “Good morning! I’m ready to go!”

“Are you?” He gave her an appraising look and she flushed, knowing Nanny's sharp eyes were on them, watching for any signs of over-familiarity. “I must say, you look lovely, my Kestrel. Those colors suit you well.”

She was wearing a loose shirt patterned in shades of rust, gold and green belted over the top of a pair of sturdy brown leggings courtesy of Nanny Bea who had insisted on finding “a few necessities” for her once she learned of Jen’s lack of extra clothes.  Jen was pretty sure that the shirt she was wearing had once belonged to one of Nanny’s sons-in-law but she didn’t mind.  The old woman had wanted to acquire dresses, but Jen had insisted on more practical clothing, particularly after Nalia had informed her that while wealthy or noble women always wore long skirts, big shirts or tunics and leggings were acceptable for female adventurers or those in some form of service. At first Nanny had been stubborn, wanting Jen to wear nothing but dresses; the only attire she considered suitable for a young woman, but eventually they had compromised and obtained small selection of items including, unfortunately, a couple of dresses that Jen hoped she’d never have reason to wear.

“Thank you,” she replied, noting that he was wearing leather armor instead of the reinforced vest she’d seen him wear since their arrival in Athkatla.  

He continued to look her over, his brows meeting in a slight frown.  “Hmmm…still, there _is_ something missing. Something rather important, I might add.”

Jen looked down. “What? What’s missing?” she asked, hoping that the absent item wasn't something embarrassing.

“Weapons!” he replied simply. “ _Your_ world may frown on citizens who carry them, but in many worlds, including this one, it is a necessity. Even Nalia carries a sword and she has her arts to protect her as well.”

She bristled. “And how do you know I need them? While it's true I've not been trained to use a sword, I've taken several self-defense classes. I'd be happy to demonstrate my skills!” 

“There's no need for that,” he replied, his eyes twinkling. “I’m sure you can be quite fierce, but still – allow me to make just a _few_ adjustments. Here.” He pulled a dagger out of his belt and tucked it into hers then reached into the pouch at his waist to pull out a handful of darts, handing them to her. She pushed them into her pants pocket, looking at him expectantly. “Better?” 

He nodded. “It will do.”

Finally ready, they left the house, walking side by side as they made their way towards the river.  Athkatla was comprised of numerous districts built over a large region of river delta. Getting from one district to the next usually required crossing several bridges as well as going through sections where the streets narrowed, becoming little more than dark, winding alleys.  

According to Haer’Dalis, Cambrel lived between the wealthy Government and Temple districts. Since Nanny lived on the opposite side of town in a more middle class neighborhood, Jen knew they would be crossing through some of the less savory areas of town.  Still, unlike Nanny she wasn’t terribly worried about safety, for Athkatla’s streets were generally quite busy at this time of day lessening the odds of being accosted even in the less desirable neighborhoods.

They made their way towards the Bridge District, so called because it was home to five interconnecting bridges pointing off in several directions, stopping occasionally so that Jen could peer at odd or intriguing items in shop windows. The streets were already bustling with activity, much as she’d figured they would be. She noticed that most of the people they passed seemed friendly enough, exchanging smiles and the occasional greeting. A few addressed Haer’Dalis by name.  At first, she wondered at it, but then remembered Nalia telling her that prior to Haer’Dalis’s joining Tristan’s group he’d been an actor in a popular acting troupe working out of the playhouse in the basement of the _Five Flagons Inn._  

They exited the Bridge District and headed into another series of alleys.  Jen noticed Haer’Dalis becoming increasingly vigilant as they picked their way down the narrow, cobbled streets, glancing from side to side, and keeping his hands near his swords.  She felt herself growing increasingly watchful herself.  While it wouldn’t do to panic, she knew it was important to be careful for she remembered the bandits in the woods all too vividly.  The thought of the bandits – and what might have happened had she come across them alone - still made her heart pound in fear.  _Stop scaring yourself!_ she thought firmly,  trying to find another, more pleasant thought to occupy her mind.

Turning down yet another narrow street Jen caught a glimpse of water and knew they must finally be approaching another bridge; most likely the one into the Government District.  She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until it came out in a whoosh of relief. They were almost out of the dim little alleys. Suddenly she found herself stumbling as something whistled past her ear.  Haer’Dalis reacted instantly, shoving her into a nearby doorway and stepping in front of her, his lips moving in a silent chant.  After a moment she saw the air shimmer around them as if a barrier had been raised.  “Wha..?”

“Muggers,” Haer’Dalis muttered grimly as he took up defensive stance, swords in front of him.  Peeking around from behind, Jen saw a small, heavily armed group stepping out from an adjoining space between two buildings.  Her legs twitched with a sudden urge to run but Haer’Dalis blocked her path. “Stay in the doorway!” he said sharply.

The closest thug – a mage, if the staff he carried was any indication – stopped, looking them over carefully.  “Going somewhere?” he inquired politely.

“Just passing through.  No need to disturb yourselves on our account,” Haer’Dalis replied calmly.  Although his tone was polite, Jen could feel tension radiating from him like a cat preparing to spring.

The mage’s smile broadened. “But of course there is.  Given your hurry we thought you might be unaware aware that a small fee is required of those who wish to pass through this quarter.  And you haven’t yet paid. We simply stopped you to give you an opportunity to rectify your oversight.”

Haer’ Dalis smiled back, “A fee. And what would you be charging for the pleasure of safe passage, my Hound?”  

“Well, I’m sure you have something to add to our safety fund. You might start by giving us those swords you’re carrying. And I’m sure the young lady has something nice tucked away in that big shirt of hers – a necklace or some other jewelry perhaps? Coin’s always good as well.”

Haer’Dalis’s smile broadened, “I’m sorry,” he said regretfully, “I don’t think either of us has anything to contribute to your coffers today.”

“I’m sorry that you see it that way,” the man replied. “Did I sound like I was asking? Let me put it plainly – strip and we’ll let you go. Fight and it will be your life. Your choice!” He raised his staff threateningly.

Haer’ Dalis shook his head. “You speak of choice, yet I think the choice has been made for us.”  He stepped forward, hesitating for a moment to hiss, “ _Use the darts!”_ at Jen before advancing to meet the party coming towards them, swords raised. “FOR THE DOOMGUARD!”

Jen fumbled with the darts, trying to pull them out of her pocket as one of the thugs – a woman – ran towards her. She threw herself as far back into the corner of the doorway as she could, hoping to buy time.  The dart finally came free and she drew her arm back for a throw.  To her surprise, she struck her target. The woman shrieked, a high note of pain that changed to harsh rasping sounds as she fell to the ground, writhing in pain as she clutched her throat. Her agony lasted only a few moments before Haer’Dalis’s swords swept out to silence her completely.

Jen watched in horror as the woman fell.  She looked around but saw there was nowhere safe to go.  Even though her attacker was down, each end of the alley was blocked by an archer leaving the mage and two more men to contend with immediately.  And since escape seeming pretty much impossible, it seemed her only option was to draw on what few self-defense skills she had and hope for survival.  She fell back into the doorway, clinging to the wall for protection. So far most of the thugs seemed to be intent on harming Haer’Dalis. From her vantage point, she could see him exchanging blows with the mage. She pulled out another dart, throwing it into the crowd only to have one of the attackers break away and head towards her. _Brilliant. Now what am I going to do?_ The man charged towards her giving her little time to think but she reacted instinctively, ducking as he swung at her. She fumbled for another dart, completely forgetting about the dagger in her belt.  As her attacker struck at her again, she turned slightly, trying to dodge the blow. This time she was not quick enough and pain lanced through her as the point of his sword glanced down her left arm, ripping the thin fabric of her shirt. Blood welled up from the wound; a thin trickle running down her arm but for some reason the sight didn’t frighten her. Instead a wave of anger swept over her, burning away her last instincts for flight. 

“You sonofabitch!” she gasped furiously. She threw herself sideways out of the man’s reach, turning as she went past to smash the heel of her hand into his nose with as much force as she could muster.  He howled as he fell and blood streamed down his face. Someone moved behind her and without thinking, she slammed an elbow backwards. As she connected with something soft she realized she didn’t know exactly who was behind her. She whirled; worried she’d just punched Haer’Dalis, but saw a strange man – one of the thugs, stumbling backwards, cursing. She followed up with a knee to his groin. As he too fell to the ground, she noticed that he appeared to have arrow stuck in his shoulder. _Friendly fire?_ she wondered.  She’d forgotten about the archers.  Haer’Dalis however had not, for glancing quickly from side to side, she saw that one was already dead and he had just dispatched the other.  

“Use the dagger! Finish it!” she heard Haer'Dalis call out as he ran towards her. She was briefly puzzled. _Finish what?_ _She saw both her attackers were still lying on the ground, although the first was struggling to get to his feet._ _We need to get out of here!_ _Then Haer’Dalis’s meaning struck her._

“Finish? You mean….” She didn't have time to complete the sentence for Entropy slashed down across first one man's throat and then the other. Both stopped moving.

As suddenly as the fight had begun, it was ended, with the mage and his thugs lying dead in the street. She looked for Haer'Dalis and saw him a short distance away, busily wiping his swords on one of the thugs he’d just killed. He seemed to have acquired a number of small wounds, but none appeard to be too serious.

He looked back at her calmly. “Are you well, my bloodthirsty Kestrel?”

She nodded and then felt her knees go weak. Her arm throbbed although it didn’t appear to be bleeding badly. Her anger was also gone and with it the rush of adrenaline which had strengthened her. She leaned back against the wall, taking in the carnage around her. Her two attackers lay in a tangle of out flung limbs, their throats ripped open and bloody, vacant eyes staring up at the sky.  As the rich, sweet scent of blood hit her nose, her stomach heaved and bile rose in her throat. Swallowing hard, she tried to move so that she couldn’t see them but found herself stumbling on legs that seemed to have turned to rubber. _Oh God, I’m going to be horribly sick. _

Haer’Dalis appeared beside her, his hands gentle as he helped her sit down. She fell forward, putting her head as close to her lap as she could in hopes of gaining control over her unruly stomach. _Head between your knees only works for fainting._ Still, she figured she was better off close to the ground than not.

After a moment she said, “My arm hurts.”

“I imagine it does. A sword cut’s a nasty thing. Still, the blood seems to be clotting nicely. I’ll bind it in a minute, but first I’d like to make sure you’re not going to pass out.”  He put an arm around her shoulders pulling her upright using his other hand to search in his belt pouch. 

“Here, see if you can swallow this. It will help.” He handed her a small vial, continuing to support her and gently massaging her shoulders as she choked down the bottle’s contents.  Finally as her stomach stopped moving she sat up, leaning her arms on her crossed legs and supporting her face in her hands.  He looked at her, his expression one of concern.

“You protected yourself well little bird, but I can see you're certainly not used to these little skirmishes.”

“I don't think I could _ever_ get used to this kind of thing! I thought Nanny was just being a fussbudget. _My_ _God_ , does this happen often?”  She sat up straight, noticing that even though she seemed capable of supporting herself now, he didn’t seem inclined to remove his arm from her shoulders. “It's certainly different from home. You know, at home, going to visit someone is usually pretty uneventful. I'd just hop in the car and drive across town for a little trip like this one. No weapons, nothing more violent than a sudden stop – no big deal.”

He looked slightly puzzled. “Hop in the car?”

“A machine – uh…a horseless carriage.”

“Interesting. You’ll have to tell me more about it later.  For now, we should move on.  So do you feel strong enough to continue?”

“But what about…” She looked around.

“All the bodies?”  He gave her a rueful look. “Nothing to be done, my dear.”

“But…we can’t just leave them here, can we? We’ve _killed_ people. Won’t there be an investigation by the authorities?”

“I doubt it. We are well within our rights to protect ourselves and in any case, the authorities as you call them are stretched rather thinly at present. Hence their recent hire of Tristan to investigate missing persons. So if the ‘authorities’ do feel moved to investigate its more likely they’ll be grateful rather than resentful of the intervention.”  He began binding her arm, using a bandage he’d drawn out of the pouch at his waist. He worked quickly, tying the ends of the bandage together neatly before standing and holding out his hand. “Ready?”

She rose with assistance and dusted herself off before taking a couple of tentative steps forward. Her feet seemed to have regained their ability to support the rest of her and she realized she felt much better. Still the experience had shaken her sufficiently that she didn’t protest when Haer’Dalis took her hand as they made their way down the street.


	7. Maps and Clues

A short time later, they crossed the final bridge leading to their destination. Jen looked around, noting that the area between the Government and Temple Districts boasted wide, clean streets and gracious homes; a sharp contrast with the narrow, squalid and rather dangerous alleys between most districts such as the one they’d just left behind. Here a large number of private guards patrolled the streets and areas in front of the larger homes. Jen breathed a sigh of relief, feeling that at least here she didn’t need to worry about being ambushed.  

She followed as Haer’Dalis turned at the first intersection, passing several houses before heading down a narrow path leading to a small cottage tucked behind one of the larger homes, making their way to the door and knocked.  At first they heard nothing, but just as Jen began to wonder if anyone was home, they heard the sound of footsteps coming towards them and a minute later the door was opened by a boyish looking and extremely short man whose head barely reached above her waist.  He looked at them curiously, taking in their slightly disheveled and blood-stained clothing, his eyes lingering for a moment on the bandage around Jen’s arm before he turned to Haer’Dalis.

“So you’re back. What do you want _now_?” he asked irritably, clearly recognizing the tiefling.

“We’re here to see your Master as you well know,” Haer’Dalis replied.

The halfling looked at him for a long moment, clearly debating whether or not to deny his master’s availability. Finally he said, “Wait here,” and shut the door. They could hear his footsteps receding into the interior of the house.

Jen looked at Haer’Dalis, her expression questioning. He shook his head, giving her a slight smile. “He’ll be back.” After a few minutes the halfling did return, waving them into the house somewhat grudgingly. They could hear him muttering to himself about the inconvenience of visitors as they followed him down the hall and into a large room lined with bookshelves and small tables.  A small fire burned on the hearth. 

The space was dominated by a large book and paper-strewn table. The man seated behind it looked up as they entered. As he rose to greet them, Jen saw that he was quite tall and in fact towered over both Haer’Dalis and herself. His long dark robe, embroidered with symbols and stars served to accentuate his height and the robe’s high collar points, extending to his cheekbones, elongated his narrow face giving him a rather horsey look.  

“I am Cambrel.  Muggsy here tells me you’re interested in my services.  How may I help you?” He peered nearsightedly at them as he spoke and then caught sight of Jen’s bandage.  “Forgive me,” he added quickly in a horrified tone, “but is that blood on your arm, my dear?” 

“Yes, I'm afraid it is. We were attacked on the way here.”

“These streets become more lawless each day. I wonder that the guards don't do more to keep honest citizens safe!  There certainly are enough of them about with nothing to do but harass honest citizens!” he said tartly. “Still, you're alive – that means something. Please come in! May I offer you some tea?”

She glanced at Haer’Dalis who shrugged indifferently before turning back to Cambrel, “Yes, I’d like that.”

“Please, sit down.” he said, motioning towards two chairs on the opposite side of the table. He waved at the halfing who was still standing in the room’s doorway, gesturing to the fire and then an adjacent table holding a tea service.  Muggsy made a kind of harrumphing noise but went over and picked up a copper teakettle from its place on the hearth, setting about the business of making tea.

As they seated themselves, Cambrel continued, “So, you're looking to travel, are you? _And_ to another plane, if Muggsy has informed me correctly.  What makes you think I can help?”

“I heard from …a source…that you are a cartographer and a collector of unusual maps. Maps, of the planes, I might add, which are said to contain the locations of many paths, portals and conduits. Perhaps your maps might provide the location of a portal that would be of use to us?”

“Your ‘source’ tells you true. I do have many maps but as far as finding a way to – well, wherever it is that you wish to go - we shall see.” said Cambrel quietly.

“I'm hoping you can help me get home,” said Jen.

“And home is…where exactly?” asked Cambrel.

“I'm from Earth -- I don't know whether that means anything to you or not.”

“Hmmm…Earth. Hrrrrmm – no, I'm afraid it is not familiar, at least not by that name. Perhaps if you tell me a little of your world and you came here – to Faerun that is, I might be able to find it.

Jen spent the next several minutes talking about Earth and its solar system. He asked how people traveled between worlds and seemed shocked to learn that while travel around the world was common, travel between worlds was not.  “And what about magic?” he asked.

“Magic doesn’t exist on Earth. Unless one considers science to be magic.”  She took the cup of tea Muggsy handed her, taking a mouthful before carefully setting it on the small and less cluttered table to her left and going on to talk about Earth’s communications and travel technologies. Cambrel listened thoughtfully, sipping tea and making a few notes. Finally Jen explained how she’d found the gem and accidentally stepped through the portal into Faerun, pulling the gem out at his request and watching as he examined it carefully. After a few moments, she saw the gem's familiar golden threads pulse under his fingers before he smiled and handed it back to her.

“Interesting,” he said. “It seems to be a genuine portal gem.”

“Aye, the stone is interesting. However, we're not here that you might vouch for its authenticity, but to learn whether you can show us where we might use it,” Haer'Dalis replied with a touch of asperity.

Cambrel’s expression changed from scholarly interest to mild irritation. “I will _try_ as I have said. I _have_ helped travelers before. But that was a long time ago. But, if there _is_ a path to your world, I believe I can locate it, although, I must admit from what you've told me, it may be of no use. It almost sounds as if yours is a closed world. If that's so then there's no way back to it.” His mouth tightened into a thin line as he looked over to see Haer'Dalis curiously examining the papers on the table in front of him.  Reaching over, Cambrel gathered up the documents, creating a slightly messy pile which he placed on an adjoining shelf before gently twitching the last paper –a map – out of Haer'Dalis' hands.

“I must ask that you not to touch anything,” he said to Haer'Dalis. “Such maps and documents as I own are old and fragile. Too much handling causes them to disintegrate.”

Jen glanced over to see something disappearing into Haer’Dalis’s sleeve and kicked him under the table, shaking her head warningly. He smiled back at her blandly then glanced towards their host. Irritated she thought, _What does he think he’s accomplishing by poking through the man’s private papers? Then again, if they are truly so old and valuable, why are they scattered so carelessly across the table? Wouldn’t they be affected by air, dust and fire? Not to mention the dangers of spilled tea?_

The room fell silent as Haer’Dalis and Cambrel continued to eye each other but said nothing. _This isn’t getting us anywhere!_ Jen thought. Aloud she said, “Can you help me get home or not? And what did you mean by a closed world?” She picked up her cup, breathing in the delicious odor of mint as she looked at Cambrel over the cup’s rim.

He looked back at her and sighed. “I don't know if I can put this briefly, but I'll try.”

“Take your time,” Jen said with a smile. “I've been on the receiving end of a lot of lengthy explanations lately.”

Cambrel cleared his throat and began. “You have an understanding of the planes?” She nodded.  “Well,” he continued, “the simplest explanation is that what binds them together is magic. Without magic, there is no means of planar travel. Indeed, I have heard that on some worlds, people have stopped believing in magic and instead put their faith in strange machines and mechanical objects. Now, they cannot travel beyond the limits of their machines. Perhaps your world is one of those.”

“Yes, we believe in science and technology,” Jen replied. “But what does this have to do with my going home?”

“Tech…tech–naw–low-gee?”

“The machines.”

“Then it has everything to do with your return,” he said. “Because magic generally doesn't work on such a prime[[1]](../../../../javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_edn1). So travelers say that such worlds are 'closed' from the rest of the planes.”

“But,” said Jen, “could there be places on Earth where magic still exists?  Places that act as launch sites for planar travel? I mean, how could I have gotten here otherwise?” She paused, turning to Haer'Dalis, “But perhaps it does explain why I couldn't get back. When I found the portal gem, I was out in the middle of nowhere. No people, no machines – just the wilderness. But do you remember when we tried to go through the portal from Faerun? The whole area was covered with people and equipment!”

“Aye, my Kestrel. There were many strange devices. And it is possible they blocked you from returning although I do not believe that is what caused the earthquake. I suspect it is more that that the portal shifted from age and disuse.” He smiled, his eyes becoming somewhat unfocused, “Twas glorious though, was it not? Chaos and entropy in action!”

She gave him a puzzled look. “Chaos and entropy? What has that got to do with anything?” She turned to Cambrel. “So what do you think? Would the presence of machines have prevented the magic from working?”

“Yes, they could have.  And magic cannot exist without belief in it. You said that the portal was in the wilds?”

“Yes, it was in a wilderness preserve.”

He pondered a moment and then said slowly, “Given what I know, it is likely that very few portals may remain on your world. If they do exist, they would be in the wilds in areas once used by your ancients for magical rites and rituals.”

“Ah,” said Haer 'Dalis. “Then let's be off to your maps and perchance we shall find what we seek!” He stood up, moving to lean casually over the back of Jen’s chair his nonchalant manner at odds with the tension emanating from him. Again she was strongly reminded of like a large cat waiting to spring.

Cambrel stared back and shook his head saying sharply, “I'll share the knowledge, but not the source.” He attempted a smile. “The maps were very difficult to obtain and I don't share them readily. Directions are what I'll provide to you, if you'll allow me to research this matter further based upon the information you’ve provided. Please − come back in a couple of days and I'll tell you what I've found.”

“A couple of days?! But…!” Jen spluttered. Haer 'Dalis put a hand on her shoulder, saying quietly, “And at what price?”

The scholar shrugged. “I'm sorry. Did I not mention the cost?”

“No, but perhaps it is small, given that we are not to see your maps?”

Cambrel smiled, “The cost is truly insignificant given what you will gain. For the anchor points of a mature conduit never change and you can travel freely between the two ends at will. For that knowledge I ask a mere 1500 gold. Each. Surely a small price to pay given the lady's desire to see her own world once again?”

“A small price indeed − or a small fortune, depending upon whether you have it.”

“Most pay the price freely and willingly,” said Cambrel.

“Aye,” said Haer'Dalis, “a berk'l[[2]](../../../../javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_edn2)l pay willingly enough if he believes that what he's getting is more valuable than the coin he's asked to pay for it. And it's easy enough to convince him to pay, particularly if he's got a need to travel!”

Cambrel shrugged, still looking at Haer'Dalis, “The information is real enough and I must protect my investment. As I said earlier, the maps are quite old and fragile. If you've no wish to travel, then our business is done.”

Haer'Dalis leaned forward again and stared up into Cambrel's face. “That is just as well, my hound. I bear little liking for the thought of stepping through a portal or a conduit to find myself in the Abyss[[3]](../../../../javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_edn3).” He raised an eyebrow. “Nor would I wish that fate upon Jen.”

“Yes…” replied Cambrel slowly. “I understand. Then, for the lady's sake, I will show you the maps, but the price will considerably higher. Shall we say 5000 gold? Each.”

Jen bounced to her feet. “5000 gold! Haery! I don't even have 1500, so where would I….” Her voice trailed off as disappointed tears rose to her eyes. Jen had little money to call her own for although Nanny had given her the odd coin or two, she primarily provided room and board. Jen had known, in the back of her mind, there would be a cost and had already considered how best to find a second job so she would have actually money to save.  Still, she’d hoped − and allowed herself to believe - that the final amount would be one she could find a way to pay. 

“I’m willing to pay 6000 gold, for both – but _only_ if you can show that your maps are true ones.” Haer'Dalis’s pleasant smile twisted slightly, becoming more of a scowl as he fingered his swords.  “I trust you understand me, good sir.”  He stared menacingly at Cambrel and for a brief moment Jen could have sworn his eyes and tattoo-like markings altered, their color shifting and becoming brighter and more intense, almost _glowing_. She shivered slightly hearing Nanny’s words once again. _I’ve_ _heard it said that tieflings have a little bit of nastiness in their family tree.  A bit of demon blood as it were._

The moment passed as Cambrel said in a calm voice, “I understand you quite well. Make it 7000 gold and you shall see them. You need have no fear that my maps are false. Come back in a few days and I should have something to show you then.”

Haer’Dalis nodded agreement, his face retaining its forbidding expression until they were outside.

With the door safely closed behind them, Jen turned to Haer'Dalis. “What was all that about!? What do you know about this man?”  She eyed him apprehensively, still wondering if she’d fanaticized him changing or if it had been all in her head; the imaginings of an overwrought mind, but he seemed calm and perfectly normal or at least what passed for normal in this rather strange world she found herself in.  Then, as she remembered the full gist of the conversation, anxiety changed to anger. And just how do you think I'm going to come up with that kind of money!?” she asked furiously. “

“I am not without the wherewithal to pay,” he replied.

“What has _that_ got to do with anything? How am _I_ supposed to pay?”

He smiled at her benevolently, “I am willing to part with the gold – for both of us.” He shook his head as she started to object, “No, do not say you cannot take anything from me. You have no choice if you want to return home and I . . . well. . .’tis an adventure and for such, I don't mind the cost.”

“I'll think about it,” she replied stiffly. She was uncomfortable with the notion of being in debt to anyone, particularly since the odds of repayment seemed slim.

“Now, in answer to your first question, this Sparrow met yon cartographer on what passes for my home world.” He stopped, closing his eyes for a moment, apparently lost in memory. “Ah Sigil[[4]](../../../../javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_edn4). What I would not give to see its twisted spires and razorvine walls again.”  He blinked, “Keldorn was the one who told me that Cambrel was here.  Although much time has passed I recognized the name _and_ the person although I doubt he remembers me. He is one and I was but one of many who had need of his services. At the time, there were many eager to obtain his services for the only way out of Sigil is through a portal.  He was reputed to have spent a lifetime traveling the planes, collecting maps on the routes and paths between the planes. And we had need, my friend and I, to use a road less traveled in leaving Sigil albeit temporarily.”

He looked rueful and ran a hand through his hair. “It takes a certain skill and experience to read maps of the planes – and to know if they are true ones. Cambrel would not show us his maps, which did not matter o'er much at the time since neither my colleague nor I possessed the necessary skill to read them. We took the chance that we would not be cheated and were directed to a conduit that should have lead to a world such as this one. Instead we ended up in Limbo[[5]](../../../../javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_edn5). But that is a tale for another time. Suffice it to say I survived but barely. It was a harsh lesson and one I'll not soon forget.”

“That's terrible!” said Jen, shocked. “What happened to your friend?”

“He too survived and eventually made his way to the Prime Material Plane, living here until it was safe to return to Sigil.”

“So why take me to Cambrel if you don't trust him?” she asked.

“Because he does possess maps...and I do not believe he will find it so easy to cheat this Sparrow again.”

“I see.” She was thoughtful for a moment, wondering whether she could trust either of them. _I have a lot to think about._ Still, there didn’t seem to be many options and she suspected that this was probably her best chance to find a way home. “And speaking of maps and directions, do you think we could find a more well traveled and possibly less dangerous route back to Nanny Bea’s?”

“All things are possible,” he replied.

“Then lead on.”

 

 

* * *

[[1]](../../../../javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_ednref1) Prime Material Plane of Existence

[[2]](../../../../javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_ednref2) Berk = fool; _Voila’s Dictionary of Planar Cant;_[ _http://www.mimir.net/cant/cant2.html_](http://www.mimir.net/cant/cant2.html) __

[[3]](../../../../javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_ednref3) The Abyss is one of the Outer Planes of several planes of existence (Planescape D&D Campaign). The Outer Planes are generally home to celestials, demons and devils. <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Outer_Plane>

[[4]](../../../../javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_ednref4) Sigil – City of Doors (Portals) located in the Outlands.  Part of the Planescape D&D Campaign setting.  <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Planescape>

[[5]](../../../../javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_ednref5) Limbo is one of the Outer Planes and is described as a place of pure chaos where even the landscape can shift suddenly, folding in upon itself. <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Limbo_(Dungeons_%26_Dragons)>


	8. Haer'Dalis

The journey back to Nanny Bea’s was uneventful.  Nanny was horrified to hear they’d been attacked and after insisting that Jen sit while she made tea, she’d examined her arm, cleaning and re-bandaging the wound all the while berating Haer’Dalis for his carelessness in taking Jen through such a squalid and dangerous part of town. He’d tolerated it for Jen’s sake, mainly because he’d wanted to talk with her; to process the events of the day.  And if he read the signs correctly, Jen too would have liked a chance to talk.  However, Nanny was having none of it so he had reluctantly taken his leave.

As he walked through the crowded streets heading away from Nanny Bea's and back towards the Bridge District and the _Five Flagons Inn_ , he decided it was probably for the best.  He really needed to rest – and to think.

He thought back to the previous evening when he’d visited Jen, something he had done often since returning to the city. He’d gone on the pretext of bearing news about Cambrel. _But I probably would have found a reason to go see her anyway,_ he admitted to himself.  When he’d first noticed how often he found himself at Nanny’s door, he’d told himself it was a matter of professional interest for he was, after all, an experienced planetraveler.  Then he’d tried to convince himself that Jen was simply a distraction; that helping her find a way to return to her own world was a way to kill time.  He _was_ between lovers at the moment which left him more free time than he normally liked. But whatever the reason he’d found himself visiting her quite regularly.

Last night however, he’d found himself holding her hands. _Certainly nothing to make much ado over._ Always a flirt, he’d initially tried to convince himself his actions were precisely that – just a little mild flirting. However he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her once he’d left and _that_ disturbed him.  He realized what drew him to her, at least in part, was the fact that she seemed totruly _like_ him. Although he was well able to entertain, he was more used to people being uncomfortable in his presence and regarding him with suspicion. Jen however didn’t seem to be unnerved by him at all. _She seems_ – he struggled for a moment to find the right words – _at ease - around me and she seems to actually see me._ It was a refreshing change and far more appealing that he liked to admit.

e felt a pleasant fluttering in his chest and wondered if he was falling in love again. He was familiar with the sensation but hadn’t wanted to contemplate the possibility. _Not yet anyway._ His last two affairs had turned out rather badly and he felt some reluctance to jump into the fire again so soon. But seeing Jen last night had led him to consider the distinct possibility that it might be happening.  Distraction had seemed the best strategy, so he’d spent the rest of the evening in the taproom of the _Belching Bullfrog_ , engaging in the time-honored tradition of drinking to avoid thinking.  He’d arrived back at the _Five Flagons_ in the wee hours of the morning with barely enough time for a brief nap before going to collect her and take to visit Cambrel.  _I'm paying for it now_ , he thought ruefully, realizing he was in fact quite tired.  

Haer'Dalis glanced about him as he walked. Although he wasn't particularly interested in what he saw, he knew it didn't pay to be inattentive to one's surroundings. The morning’s experience was a sharp reminder of _that_ particular lesson. The area bustled with activity – merchants and other workmen plying their trades, nobles gossiping, children playing as well as a couple of City Guards on patrol. The midday sun was directly over head, shining into his eyes and making his head ache so he picked up the pace, wanting nothing more than to reach the cool darkness of his room at the inn.

“There you are! Haer'Dalis! Hey Haery!”  someone shouted. Looking up, he saw Nalia coming towards him.  “Greetings, fair one. And from whence did _you_ come?” he asked.

“From the _Five Flagons_ of course. Where else _would_ I have come from?  Actually, Tristan sent me to look for you. Where have you been?” she asked.

“I took Jen to visit someone,” he replied irritably. He felt mildly annoyed by the question, partly due to his headache and partly because he knew conversations with Nalia were rarely brief. She was prone to interrogation, particularly where Jen was concerned.  In the interests of self-preservation he tried to divert her, saying in his normal mellifluous tone, “So tell me, my pretty Lark, what does Tristan want?” 

Nalia fell into step beside him.  “I think she wants you to go somewhere with her.” She looked at him with suddenly narrowed eyes, “Say, what happened to you? You look like you've been in a fight! _Is Jen ok_!?”

He looked down at his armor, sighing as he realized he’d failed to distract her. His leather vest was blood-splattered and his exposed shirt sleeves and pants _were_ rather tattered as a result of the fracas, but no matter – he'd get new ones; something he enjoyed. As a member of Sigil’s Doomguard[[1]](../../../../javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_edn1), he fully believed in both the desirability and inevitability of entropic decay, so with the exception of his swords, he frequently replaced his clothes and other belongings, delighting in the erosion of new possessions as a means of philosophical expression. 

“Well and there's truth!” he replied. “We had some small difficulty with four or five of the local brigands. They’re dead, we’re not. Jen suffered a cut on the arm but she’s fine. I left her in your Nanny’s tender care.” 

Nalia looked at him suspiciously. “Where were you and what were you doing anyway?” Before he could reply, she added, “You _know_ there are sections of town that are too dangerous to take someone like Jen!  What were you thinking!?”

He managed not to roll his eyes, but couldn’t quite keep the slightly sardonic note from his voice as he replied, “It seems moot at this point.  _Jen’s_ safe as am I, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“Well, I'm glad to hear Jen’s ok. I’ve had enough people die on me lately!”  Tears filled her eyes and he realized she was thinking of her father.

His tone softened slightly as he replied, “Nalia, _all_ things die or are otherwise destroyed.  'Tis a cycle that we are part of and must accept.” He patted her arm, intending comfort but she jerked away, glaring at him.

“I know everything ends eventually. But that doesn’t mean I have to accept that everything happens as and when it should!”  

“I merely point out the inevitability.” He shrugged, walking the rest of the short distance with her in silence hoping their conversation was at an end.

However his hopes of escape were dashed for before he could enter the inn, Nalia grabbed his arm, pulling him around to look at her. “Haer'Dalis, I know we’ve had our differences. I guess I just wonder about you sometimes.  I would _think_ someone such as yourself - an actor experienced at least in _portraying_ intense emotions, would be more able to understand my feelings right now. Instead you give me philosophy. So tell me, if this is how you feel about death, is it also how you feel about love?”

“Yes,” he replied shortly. _Just what I need. An interrogation on the very subject I’ve been trying to avoid._

“Ah,” she continued, her voice taking on a syrupy sweetness,” then this is how you must explain falling in and _out_ of love so easily. I must warn Jen to take care.” His face darkened as she added, “Oh, don't deny you’re interested. You’ve visited as often if not more than I have and while I know you’re pretending to be altruistic in regards to finding her world, I've seen how you look at her. If _only_ she knew all the tales I've heard! But _please,_ don't worry, I haven't told her anything - yet.”

“I should hope not. The tales are not yours to tell. And speaking of Jen, she hopes you’ll visit her today.” With that he pulled his arm out of her grasp and stalked into the inn.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tristan looked up with a jerk as Nalia marched into the room they were sharing and slammed the door. “What's the matter? Did you find Haer'Dalis?” she asked, her tone remaining carefully neutral as if she hadn’t been startled by Nalia’s sudden entrance.

“Yes,” replied Nalia stormily, “and I wish I hadn't!! You know, he makes me _so_ mad sometimes!”

“I _do_ know,” Tristan replied. “Did you try to engage him in another philosophical discussion? It seems to me that it’s just setting yourself up for frustration and disappointment. It’s a losing battle you know.  It’s nigh on impossible to convert a zealot. And for all Haer’Dalis’s prattle and pretense, he _is_ a zealot.”

“Well, I didn’t intend it to be a philosophical discussion.” Nalia sighed in exasperation, “He told me that he and Jen went somewhere this morning and were attacked on the way. When I said that I was glad no one had died, he told me all things come to an end so I should just accept it. Anyway, he's here and he's all yours now. Take him out and lose him somewhere would you?”

Tristan looked at Nalia calmly. While she felt a certain amount of compassion for the young woman, she was well aware of her propensity to personalize and blow things out of proportion. For all that Nalia believed in the importance of helping others, she was often rather self focused. “He’s useful to us Nalia. I need his help if I’m to find Imoen. If you don’t want to have a philosophical conversation with him, don’t start one and if you _do_ start one, accept that you’re each bound to think differently about things.”  She left the room, leaving Nalia to fume by herself, making her way downstairs.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Haer’Dalis looked up from where he was sitting at a table, a large mug in front of him as Tristan entered the taproom.

“Haery! There you are.”

He sighed, “Yes, here I am.  You do appear to have found me.”

“Well,” she continued, “I'm glad of it. I’ve come up with a lead that may help in our search for Imoen. Remember that ranger we met in the Umar Hills? Valygar Corthala?

“Yes,” he replied. He lifted the mug, taking a long pull from it before looking back at her. He didn't want the conversation to be lengthy for his head still hurt and he longed to go to bed.

“I’ve learned that the Wizards are looking for him. It seems that he has a connection with that huge Sphere that’s appeared in the slums and it occurs to me that if we were to get in before the Wizards do, we might find something we can use as leverage to get them to tell me where they’ve taken Imoen.  Anomen and I went out and looked at the Sphere today but there’s no way in. Rumor has it that Corthala is back in Athkatla, so I thought we should go talk with him; see if I can persuade him to help me.”

“So, what role would you have this actor play?” Haer’Dalis’s head gave a sudden throb and he began to massage his forehead carefully.

Tristan glanced at him sharply, suddenly observant. “Nalia said you’d been in a fight, but from her manner I didn’t think it had been much of one. But, your clothes are torn and you've taken a few cuts. Are you well, Haer'Dalis?”

“ _Yes_ ,” he said wearily, “And there's nothing wrong that a stiff drink – a bit of the hair of the dog as they say -and a brief sojourn with my Lady Sleep won't cure.”

“Alright, then I'll be brief. I want to go to the Docks and locate Valygar. I had thought of going immediately, but I think it's best not to be seen, so we'll go at night. But I don't want to go alone – there have been too many unexplained “disappearances” in Athkatla lately. I'd also rather not take the whole party either –too obvious and too noisy. I think it best if only a couple of us go – those used to moving quietly. Will you come with me?”

“Certainly, but perhaps Nalia would serve you better?”

“No, for she doesn't have your talents for sword play _or_ ingenuity should we need to talk our way out of something. I'd prefer that you come –if you're willing.”

“As you wish, my Raven. Now, if you will excuse me, this Sparrow must have some much deserved rest or he'll not be of much use to you later.”

“Fine,” she replied. “I'll meet you here in the taproom after dark.”

“As you wish,” he said again, rising to his feet and heading for the stairs.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Haer'Dalis trudged wearily into his room, falling fully clothed onto the bed. After a moment he sat up, carefully removing the scroll which had been hidden in his sleeve placing it on the bed next to him before pulling off his boots and tossing them to the floor. His leather armor and clothes soon followed. Although exhausted, he took a moment to open a large trunk nearby, quickly locating the latch to its false bottom and put the scroll carefully inside. Going back to the bed, he threw back the bedclothes, crawling between the sheets with an expectation of falling fall asleep immediately. However, as often happens to those desperately in need of rest, he found his mind to be unexpectedly active.

He moved restlessly under the sheets, finding that once again, his thoughts had turned to Jen.  He wondered, as he had the previous night, how she felt about him and recalled a child's game used to determine the feelings of a loved one. It had something to do with plucking petals off a flower – _she loves me, she loves me not._

Nalia's taunt floated through his mind. _Do I fall in and out of love too easily?_ He examined the possibility for some time before rejecting it. He believed he loved wholeheartedly and well, hoping each time his feelings would last. But, he thought, love is truly no different than any other emotion and thus is fated to end in its own time.

He sighed and rolled onto his stomach, pillowing his face in his arms. _Jen_. He was certainly having difficulty _not_ thinking about her.  Especially given the day’s events.  When he'd first seen her that morning, he'd had the distinct sensation of being hit by a lightening spell although he had to admit that in this case it had unquestionably been a pleasant experience, whereas being hit by the actual spell was not. The memory of her in his arms after the bandit battle warmed him and he wondered if he really could win her over. He didn't know but thought it would be well worth trying. At the very least, it would keep him amused. With the thought came the realization that he'd come to a decision. He also noticed that the pain in his head seemed to be receding. _All’s well that ends well[ **[2]**](../../../../javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_edn2)_ , he thought and fell soundly asleep.

 

* * *

[[1]](../../../../javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_ednref1) Doomguard:  One of the  philosophically-based power groups or factions as they are called, in Sigian society. <http://mimir.net/factions/doomguard.html>

[[2]](../../../../javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_ednref2) Alls Well That Ends Well, William Shakespeare.


	9. Nightfall - Part I

Haer'Dalis opened his eyes, having been awakened by a dim shaft of light creeping through the heavy curtains of his room. He had slept for several hours and felt much better. Yawning, he slid out from under the bedclothes and made his way across the floor to the window. It was early evening and the sun was sinking slowly down the horizon. Soon it would be time to meet Tristan. Going to a basin in the corner of the room, he splashed water on his face and then found the pile of armor and clothes he'd left on the floor. He dressed quickly, putting a soft, dark shirt over his armor to hide it in preparation for the evening's activities.

As he made his way downstairs, the rich smell of roasting meats and freshly baked bread rose towards him, floating above the taproom smells of spilled beer and wine and his stomach growled. He had not eaten since the previous evening and realized he was quite hungry. He knew there was plenty of time as Tristan would not need him until it was fully dark. Making his way into the kitchen he found Mistress Thunderburp, the innkeeper's wife and an excellent cook.

“Haery!” she exclaimed, “How nice to see you. I was beginnin' to think you'd developed a dislike for my cookin'!”

He grinned and flung up his hands in protest, “Mistress Thunderburp! I wouldn't dream of slighting you thus! Tristan's business has occupied my time of late and thus prevented me from savoring the many pleasures the _Five Flagons_ has to offer - your own admirable culinary talents among them.”

“ _Tristan’s business_. Get on with you!” She chuckled, handing him a full plate. “More likely some young lady has been takin’ up your time.”  He smiled but didn’t answer as he took the plate to a nearby table and seated himself.

He was nearly finished with his meal when he saw Jaheira coming downstairs towards him. Although much renewed by sleep and food, he was not in the mood for their usual exchange of barbs, so he rose and fled towards the basement stairs, heading into the abandoned playhouse.

Haer'Dalis walked slowly down the aisle, looking around the barren theatre. He finally made his way backstage to wander around, poking through empty dressing rooms and discarded sets. He remembered the many plays the Sigil Troupe had performed there including _Sweet Lunesia._ How he had disliked that play! At the same time, he had enjoyed his ability to give life to Rodrigo - a truly one-sided character. His understudy had apparently been unable to do as well, much to the chagrin of the troupe. He smiled and shook his head at the memory. At times he missed life with the Sigil Troupe. The lifestyle had suited him; for a truly creative Doomguard - an artisan, such as himself, needed multiple means of self-expression. Planting rumors, inciting riots and ruining reputations through performance art were excellent ways to support the Doomguard cause.

He ran a hand absently over the floor harp sitting in the middle of the stage. Its graceful shape and lovely voice reminded him of Raelis Shai, the Sigil Troupe's leader. He had last seen her in the Astral Prison from which Tristan had rescued them both. She’d been wearing a dress of vibrant red - one of his favorites.

 _However,_ he reminded himself severely, _you left the Sigil Troupe as a matter of self-preservation._ Given that Raelis's views on the transient nature of love matched his own, she had had no scruples about using her lovers to perform any number of dangerous tasks. He remembered his disastrous errand to Mekrath's tower. _But for Tristan, I would still be enslaved by that foulmouthed and calumnious knave._ While he knew this wasn't entirely fair - Raelis _had_ sent Tristan to rescue him after all - he still suspected the true impetus for Raelis's actions had been the opportunity to obtain a portal gem rather than the retrieval of her errant bard.

He sat on the stage, leaning against the harp, lost in memory until the sound of footsteps interrupted his thoughts bringing him back to the present. Looking up, he saw Tristan coming towards him. She too was dressed in soft dark clothing although he suspected she wore chainmail under her shirt just as he did.

"Is it time, my Raven?"

"Yes - it's getting late. I think all the locals have gone home for the evening so we can safely run our little errand," she replied. Leaving the stage, he followed her up the aisle and out of the inn.

They headed towards the district's north gate. Haer'Dalis walked quietly beside Tristan, alert for the slightest sign of impending danger. His vigilance seemed unnecessary as they traveled on seemingly unnoticed and without incident until reaching the entrance to the Slums. There, as they passed through the gateway, a woman slid out from the shadows to confront them.

"Hello friends, might I have a word with you in private? I bring news which I suspect will be of great interest," she said.

"And what might that be?" asked Tristan.

"Truly, that is not for me to say. You are seeking your sister, are you not? My mistress has certain information…and a proposal to make in that regards that would be to your mutual benefit. Come to her tonight and she will make her offer."

Haer'Dalis looked the woman over carefully. She was dressed in a brown one-piece garment that clung to her shapely form. While normally he would have viewed her with enjoyment, he sensed there was something odd about her - something that strongly reminded him of three-day-old fish. And given the proposed meeting place, he suspected there was something very rotten indeed about her mistress. He was curious, but not foolhardy.

"And if we do not choose to come tonight?" he asked warily. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Tristan’s hands hovering over her own sword belt and knew the woman made her nervous as well.

The woman ignored him and stood looking at Tristan. "Come to my mistress while it is still dark. Do not delay and do not listen to other offers until you have heard what she has to say."

"Thank you," said Tristan, "Who is your mistress and why is she so interested in my affairs?"

"Your questions shall be answered in good time. Come to the Graveyard once you've completed your errand tonight and she will explain all. But it must be dark and it must be tonight or you’ll not find her.” With that the woman slid back into the shadows and disappeared. They looked at each other for a long moment until finally Tristan said, "Well, that was pretty creepy. And who is her mistress do you suppose?"

"Unknown. Perhaps 'tis related to the rumors we have heard of a new guild warring with the Shadow Thieves[[i]](http://archiveofourown.org/javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_edn1). This woman may well be part of it."

"Yes," Tristan said slowly, "you could be right. So, do we visit this mysterious guild mistress after we talk with Valygar Corthala?"

Haer'Dalis shrugged, "A wise man once said, 'Be slow to rush in where planars fear to tread.' "

"Good advice," said Tristan, "Then I think not. Let's go on, shall we?" She shook her head. "Hopefully the rest of the trip will be uneventful."

A short time later they entered the dock area, heading northeast through a gate leading onto a street lined with houses and shops. "Valygar's house is at the end of the street near the _Sea's Bounty Tavern,_ " whispered Tristan. They headed away from the gates, making their way through streets which wound back and forth across a wide and shallowly sloped hillside, forming a series of terraces which came together at the bottom in a broad plaza.  The terraces themselves were connected in several places by long flights of stairs which wound between and disappeared into buildings, providing plenty of places for the unlawful to hide.

Glancing around, Haer'Dalis noted the number shadowy spaces between the houses. _We should be prepared for ambush,_ he thought. A shiver of premonition ran down his spine and he slid his swords partway out of their sheaths.  _It never hurts to be prepared._ He was not disappointed for as they neared the Sea’s Bounty a small group of men appeared suddenly, jumping down the steps of an open stairwell above them.

"Going somewhere?" asked the apparent leader.

Haer'Dalis sighed. _"Going somewhere?"_ must be a standard bandit greeting on the Material Plane. Although never one to turn down a fight, he grew tired of such lackluster opening lines as a prelude to aggression. The City Guard was supposed to be keeping the streets safe, but given the number of times he’d been accosted in the past few days it seemed to him that they were falling down on the job.

As the bandits began their attack, Haer'Dalis fell back, preparing a spell. Glittering motes of dust flew from his fingertips and struck the footpads who reacted to their temporarily blindness with shouts of horror. Tristan, quickly realizing what had happened, pushed the nearest bandit back towards the stairs. Haer'Dalis followed suit and soon the bandit group was tumbling down the steps like ninepins, rubbing their eyes while cursing and screaming at each other. Tristan and Haer'Dalis looked at each other, gleefully grinning and then Tristan's face fell.

“Why so solemn, my Raven?” Haer'Dalis asked. She pointed behind him and turning around, he realized that the incident had drawn a crowd of drunken revelers out of the _Sea's Bounty_ and up the street towards.

“Look! Now we've done it! Everyone knows we're here,” she replied. She shook her head disgustedly. “I don’t want to be seen going into Valygar Corthala’s home. Someone’s bound to report it to the Cowled Wizards. Since I know he's been in hiding from them, I don't want to tip them off.” She seemed ready to end the night's quest then and there. Haer 'Dalis, however, realizing the time for stealth had passed, threw an arm about her shoulders and drew her up the street, bellowing out a bawdy sea shanty much to the delight of the sailors who had come out to see the fun.

As they passed Valygar's house, Haer'Dalis took his arm from around Tristan's shoulders and helped her maneuver through the crowd. "Go talk to Valygar," he whispered and then, picking up mid-verse, he let the crowds sweep him into the Sea's Bounty.

* * *

[[i]](http://archiveofourown.org/javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_ednref1) Shadow Thieves = a thieves guild based in Athkalta.


	10. Nightfall - Part II

When night finally came, Jen was very glad to go to bed. She felt tired and worn out from both the day’s events and her own anxious thoughts. Still shaken by her street fighting experience she found herself worrying about her ability to survive in a place like Faerun. This was countered by the thought that she might not have a choice. 

She lay in bed breathing slowly and trying to relax. But tired as she was, she still found it hard to go to sleep. Instead she found herself trying to come up with moneymaking ideas that would allow her to pay Cambrel’s fees herself.  The skills and the career she’d had on Earth just didn’t translate to Faerun. She’d been a teacher at home but here it certainly seemed to her that she knew less than the smallest child. In any case, public schools seemed non-existent.  What little she’d learned from Nalia and the others about Faerun’s educational system indicated those who could afford such things had private tutors and those who could not found apprenticeships or took up menial labor. She tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable, all the while pondering the possibilities but no brilliant moneymaking ideas came to mindwhich left her with Haer’Dalis’s offer; an offer she was reluctant to take. 

The sound of her own breathing calmed her and she began to relax.  But her mind wasn’t ready to let go entirely. Instead she found herself replaying Haer’Dalis’s and Cambrel’s confrontation and the changes in Haer’Dalis she was _sure_ she’d observed.  She pictured him in her mind, seeing his eyes shift from impenetrable black to something brighter, glowing, almost _green._ _Nanny may be right about him. But I still don’t understand._ It was hard to think of him with suspicion for such thoughts were overridden by the knowledge of his kindness – his attempts to help her get home, the laughter they shared during his frequent visits, his concern for her after the street assault as well as the reassuring feel of his arm around her and the warmth of his hand covering hers as they’d walked down the street earlier that day.   _I do like him,_ she thought. _I don’t want to believe Nanny._ With a sigh she refocused, trying to stay aware of the sensation of breathing and avoid the temptation of following any of the thoughts that floated through her mind.  As she concentrated she found herself slowly relaxing, her consciousness finally giving way to sleep and dreams.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jen followed Haer'Dalis down the narrow forest trail. _Where had he come from?_ Something tugged at the back of her mind. Something Nalia had said to her at dinner that evening. She tried to pinpoint it, but the thought eluded her. _Why can't I remember?_

She knew that somehow Haer'Dalis had located a portal and she was on her way home. This puzzled her. _When did we visit Cambrel again?_ Suddenly she found herself on a trail in the forest, following Haer’Dalis. _How odd. Still, I’m on my way home!_

The forest's thick canopy blocked out both moon and starlight, making it difficult to see more than an arms-length in front of her face. Besides the lack of light, the thick underbrush constantly caught at her feet and she found herself looking downward more than forward. Peering into the darkness, she tried to keep up with Haer'Dalis, but was distracted by tree branches whipping back against her face as she hurried down the trail. She sighed. _Why do portals always seem to be located in such remote locations?_

The air was damp and a brisk wind blew through the trees. Jen shivered with cold. She didn't seem to be able to keep up with Haer'Dalis - a fact which bothered her tremendously since she didn't really want to be left alone in the dark.

"Haery! Please! Not so fast- I can't keep up with you!" she tried to call out. Her voice didn't seem to be working properly however and the words that came out of her mouth made little sense even to her. Haer'Dalis didn't seem to understand the words either as he only glanced back briefly without slowing down. Jen grew warm with anger. _Damn it,_ she thought, _what's the matter with him? Does he think this is funny?_

She increased her speed, trying to catch up and hoping not to fall. Then, without warning, Haer'Dalis went around a bend in the trail and disappeared. Jen ran forward calling his name but he was nowhere in sight. She found herself gripped by nameless panic and looked around frantically. There was no sign of him.

"Haery!" she screamed. "Haery, where are you?" There was no answer – just the sound of tree branches scraping together as they were blown about by the wind.

Suddenly, a movement caught the corner of her eye and looking to the left she saw something coming towards the pathway - it appeared to be a thick vine, but alive in an alien and rather frightening way. It reached her all too quickly, wrapping itself around her ankle. Screaming, she tried to pull her foot free, but the vine moved backwards, pulling her towards the bushes.

Jen clutched frantically at the underbrush as she was dragged off the trail. She struggled helplessly and then, just as fear threatened to overwhelm her, something snapped. _God dammit! She wasn't going to die out here alone and afraid._ She remembered the dagger Haer'Dalis had given her before they had left the house that morning. _I'm still wearing it._ She drew it from its sheath and stopped struggling, instead reaching towards her feet and slashing at the vine, which responded by sending out additional tendrils to wind around her legs.

Jen redoubled her attack, ripping and kicking at the thick ropy vine. Suddenly it let go and shot off into the bushes as if it was being sucked up with a vacuum. She scrambled to her feet and ran back towards the trail, her heart pounding madly. _Don't panic! Don't panic! You'll get out of this. Haer'Dalis can't be far away. He probably didn't hear you calling over the noise of the trees and the wind._

Darkness closed in around her like a smothering blanket. Then with a sense of relief, she remembered she was still wearing her backpack. _My flashlight,_ she thought, _why didn't I think of it before? Getting too used to more rustic lighting, I guess and forgetting about technology._ She pulled it out of the pack and turned it on, pleased to find that it still worked. Wondering how much farther she needed to travel before reaching the portal's entrance, she pulled the portal gem out of her jeans' pocket. The golden lines glowed and she figured she couldn't be too far away.

She was still alone however and wondered what had happened to Haer'Dalis. With her heart pounding in 2/4 time, she headed down the trail, straining her eyes as she looked forward in the darkness. Finally, with a vast sense of relief, she saw a figure on the trail ahead. _Haery! Thank God!_ As she got closer, the figure turned and instead seeing the tiefling, she saw a taller man dressed in flowing robes. _Cambrel?_

"Cambrel!" she gasped. "What are you doing here?”

"I came to make sure you got home," he replied. "Here's the portal entrance. All you have to do is give me the gem and I'll see you through." He gestured towards the portal's mouth.

A alarm sounded in her mind. She drew back startled. "Huh? Wait a minute - where's Haer'Dalis? And why do I need to give you the gem? Don't I need it to get through?" she asked.

"Of course you do my Kestrel," he replied, "but I'm going with you."

She was startled by the avian name and looked up with a puzzled expression to find herself staring into Haer'Dalis's handsome face. "Wha….? Where's Cambrel?!"

It was his turn to look puzzled. "Cambrel? What are you talking about?" he asked in return.

"Nothing," she muttered, now convinced that she was losing her mind."Absolutely nothing."

"Let's go," he said, holding out his hand. As she took it, she noticed that his skin seemed wrong - leathery and dark - almost reptilian. The opening of the portal distracted her from taking the observation further however and she looked up at Haer'Dalis who smiled down at her saying, "You're almost home, Jen. Come on!"

Again there seemed something strange about him. The words. They didn't seem right. She couldn't remember Haer'Dalis ever saying anything like "What are you talking about" or "come on" before. She ignored the warning however and stepped forward into the portal, feeling as though she were striding through knee-deep peanut butter. And found herself suddenly dragged forward, firmly clutched in the scaly hand of a towering demon. Horrified, she stared up and saw a massive spiny body with horns sticking out at all angles from its head and body. A second clawed hand reached out, pulling her towards a cavernous mouth and massive fangs. _No! This can't be happening! Haer'Dalis!_ She struggled against the demon but it was strong - too strong. Just as it began to bite down, she felt herself falling.

Just as the ground rose up to meet her, she jolted awake, her heart pounding madly against her ribs and her skin damp with sweat. Peering into the darkness she saw nothing except the familiar bedroom. She could hear Nanny Bea's soft snores coming from the next room and the familiar sound comforted her. Taking a few deep breaths to slow down the pounding of her heart she thought, _It was a nightmare. Just a dream. But dreams are supposed to be a way to work out unfinished business and this was just...confusing._ _She tried to think but it was impossible. So she did the next best thing and_ pulling the covers up over her head like a child protecting herself from the closet monsters, she went back to sleep.


	11. Friends and Fate

Jen woke up early the next morning and sat up, flexing her left arm.  The movement brought a twinge of pain as her muscles contracted, pulling at the edges of her wound. She pulled off the bandage, holding it out so she could examine the long cut running down the back. The bandit’s sword had sliced cleanly through skin but hadn’t gone below the top layer of muscle _._ A thick scab had formed over the gash; an indication that it was beginning to heal. She suspected she would have a lovely scar to remind her of the experience.

She slid out of bed and stood, gently moving her arm back and forth.  The movement seemed to help for it ached less with each swing.  Satisfied that it wouldn’t hinder her from working, she headed into the kitchen to stir the banked fire and swing the heavy teakettle into place.  As she waited for the water to heat, she tried to marshal her thoughts into some semblance of order.  It was impossible to think for she felt incredibly groggy. _The after effects of a nightmare and interrupted sleep. Maybe tea will help,_ she thought, sitting down at the small table and staring moodily out the window. Eventually she was able to make a small pot of tea but even after drinking it she found her thoughts still jumping from one thing to another. _This isn’t accomplishing anything,_ she thought _.  What was it Grandmother always said? ‘The happiest people are those who are too busy to notice whether or not they are or not?’[ **[1]**](http://archiveofourown.org/javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_edn1) At least if I’m doing something I won’t be thinking about things.  _ She sighed, then rose to her feet and started about her chores.

The rest of the day passed quietly and uneventfully without either Nalia or Haer’Dalis coming to see her.  Although she missed them she didn’t think much about.  However, when neither showed up the next day she wondered about it but kept her mind occupied by throwing herself into helping Nanny who was preparing for the visit of her youngest daughter, Lila.  She spent the day in a whirlwind of activity - shopping, cleaning and putting away precious breakables – which left her exhausted. 

By the third morning however, she found herself thinking a great deal about their absence and worrying about what it might mean.  Finally, after debating with herself for several minutes, she decided to take matters into her own hands. She had visited the _Five Flagons_ to see Nalia before after all and she felt reasonably sure that her friend – _friends_ – would welcome her.  Lila wasn’t due until late afternoon, so she knew there would be time for her to go and come back.  She set about her morning chores with a will and had just finished cleaning up the breakfast dishes when she heard a knock at the door.   _Lila’s kinda early. I thought she was coming later – for tea, not lunch_. She left the kitchen and hurried down the hall. Pulling open the door she found not Lila but Nalia on the doorstep.  With a squeal she threw her arms around her friend.

“I was beginning to wonder if you’d left town,” Jen exclaimed, hugging her before leading her back to the small sitting room.

“I know. I’ve been feeling terribly guilty for not even sending you a message.  Didn’t Haery tell you why I couldn’t be here?”  Nalia stopped as the look on Jen’s face told her the truth. “ _Haery hasn’t been here?_ ” Her expression darkened, “Why that.…” she started to say and then stopped. “No, that’s not fair.  I haven’t seen him much lately myself.  Tristan has kept us all quite busy the last couple of days – and nights for that matter. Still, I’m surprised.”  She followed Jen into the small sitting room, shrugging off her shawl as she settled into a large overstuffed chair.

“Tristan’s keptall of you busy?”Jen raised an eyebrow.

“My poor Jen. I know we deserted you.” Nalia’s sympathetic tone was echoed by her expression.  “You know Tristan’s sister was arrested by the Cowled Wizards[[2]](http://archiveofourown.org/javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_edn2) for using magic without a license?” she asked.  Jen nodded. Nalia had told her some time ago that Tristan was searching for her sister Imoen and gathering help from whomever would provide it, usually based upon exchanges of aid. That was how both Nalia and Haer’Dalis had come to travel with her. 

“Well,” Nalia continued, “she found a couple of leads which we’ve been following up on. I know she took Haery with her to the Docks a couple of nights ago to talk with someone and she’s been sending the rest of us out on errands as well. I also know she sent Keldorn to the Temple recently for some kind of legal research.”

“Sounds like you’re about to go somewhere – maybe even leaving town then.”  It was a statement more than a question and even as she said it Jen felt her heart sinking at the thought.  It wasn’t the first time in the last month that Nalia had disappeared on one of Tristan’s mysterious missions but Jen realized it was the first time she’d truly acknowledged how alone she felt when she knew Nalia and the rest of the group was away.  She realized she was becoming attached to them - the only people she knew in Amn.  She also suddenly aware of how much of a lifeline her friendships with Haer’ Dalis and Nalia had become to her.

“Actually I’m not sure. We’re still looking for a lot of information. I don’t know everything but it’s something big.”  Her voice dropped slightly on the last two words, making it clear that whatever Tristan was up to, it was something she thought to be very important.

“You’ve been traveling with her for a while, haven’t you?” Jen asked. Nalia nodded.  “I don’t know how you do it,” Jen said wistfully, “I mean, I’ve never thought of myself as a coward but I’m not exactly a soldier either.”

Nalia shrugged, “I’m plenty scared most of the time. At first I nearly wet my pants whenever we went into battle but now I find that I’ve stopped thinking and just _do_ stuff. It _is_ exciting in way but I don’t think I would continue if I didn’t owe Tristan for helping me save my family home. I feel that I _have_ to go with her. And by the way, _I_ don’t doubt your courage. Haer’Dalis told us that you stood your ground pretty well the other day.”  A broad grin split her face, “I think you surprised him.”

“It surprised _me,”_ Jen replied, scrunching her eyes closed to dislodge the sudden vision of the mugger’s crumpled bodies.

“So, you need to tell me what happened. We didn’t talk much last time I was here and I’m curious. Did you learn anything that would help you get home? Not that I want you to go,” Nalia added hastily putting her hand on Jen’s arm.

“Not really.  Haer’Dalis took me to see a planetraveler- a man named Cambrel - who asked me a lot of questions and told me he’d have to do some research.  He told us to come back in a couple of days.  But there are other complications – cost for one.  Didn’t Haery tell you?”

Nalia shook her head, “He didn’t tell me anything about Cambrel. Of course I was so mad at him for walking you into an ambush that I didn’t ask either.  We ended up having another one of the philosophical discussions he’s so fond of – well, argument really.  You know what I mean….”

Jen grimaced, “Not entirely. By philosophical do you mean the bit about entropy and everything being temporary and how he seems to think it should be encouraged?  He certainly seems to view destruction as a _good_ thing.”

“It’s mostly that he really seems to think that nothing lasts or _should_ last,” Nalia replied.  “After I saw you the other day I told him I told him how glad I was that no one had been seriously hurt and do you know what he said?” She drew herself up, an indignant expression on her face. “He told me I should just accept that all things end!  I mean he was _fine_ with the idea that one of you could have been killed!” She shivered, pulling her shawl up around her shoulders and fell silent, focusing on carefully tucking the ends of the shawl into the top of her bodice. Finally she looked up. “He says he feels that way about everything.  We – you and I – haven’t talked about this, but...well, _I think he’s starting to like you a lot_!”  The last words came out in a rush. “So I just thought you ought to know what he’s like. What he believes.  Just in case….”

“In case of what?” Jen felt herself flushing. Nalia seemed to be trying to warn her of - of Haer’Dalis’s… _intentions?_   She giggled suddenly, “Nalia, you sound like Nanny Bea!  Or my mother!” She forced her face into a solemn expression, her voice coming deep and serious as she intoned, “Jen, I want you to remember that men are only thinking about one thing so you be careful young lady!” Seeing Nalia’s face darken she added hastily, “No, no. I’m just teasing.  And I do appreciate that you care.” She sighed. “I don’t know entirely what I think about Haery, but I do know that one minute I want nothing more than to go home and the next I’m starting to think that if I have to stay here the rest of my life it might be ok. I miss my family and my friends.  But I’m also beginning to feel like I’ve got friends here as well. Like you for example.” Overcome for a moment, she felt tears rising and looked away so she wasn’t aware of Nalia reaching out to take her hand until she felt her squeeze it.

“Really? You feel that way too? I’m _so_ glad.” Jen looked up to see Nalia smiling happily, her eyes also shining with unshed tears.  “I’ve had a lot of people around me all my life, but I haven’t had many that I could really say were my friends.”

“Well you have one now,” Jen said.  They sat silently together for a moment. Jen found it hard to stay in such a serious place. Humor was more her way, so to shift the mood she said lightly, “But enough of about me. When you came in it sounded like you had a bit of gossip to share. What else is going on?”

Nalia brightened, her eyes beginning to sparkle, “Ooo! I’m glad you asked.  Reminds me that I’ve had something I’ve been _dying_ to tell you!”

“I do want to hear it, but do you want some tea first?”  Jen asked, rising from her chair.

They went into the kitchen and as Jen made tea, Nalia seated herself at the table, taking up the conversational thread once again. “Remember how I told you a couple of weeks ago that I thought Ano was falling for Tristan? Well, now I’m _sure_ he is. Let me tell you what happened!  Ok, so the day Haery took you to see – what was his name?”

“Cambrel,” Jen supplied.

“Cambrel.  _Anyway_ , Tristan had apparently decided to take Haery to the Docks with her later that night. When Ano found out I thought he was going to have a stroke, carrying on about her going out at night with ‘The Actor.’  Not even Keldorn could calm him down. You should have heard him!” She jumped out of the chair, drawing herself up to her full height and saying in as deep and stilted a voice as she could manage, ““I couldn't help but overhear part of your conversation with _The Actor_ , My Lady. Enough to know that you are planning to go out tonight. May I _remind_ you that the streets of Athkatla are not safe after dark and ask that I be allowed to go with you? I believe _I_ would be of far more use to you than yon poet!” 

Jen laughed as Nalia postured, flexing her muscles and puffing out her chest. She could just hear the words being spoken in Anomen’s clipped, formal tenor.  Even though her acquaintance with him was limited, she’d noticed, during their brief forest sojourn, how touchy he was, particularly if he felt slighted. “So what did Haer’Dalis say to that?”

Before Nalia could reply, a chirpy voice came from the hall, “Nalia DeArnise!  You haven’t yet said hello!”  Nanny came into the kitchen, her face wreathed in smiles as she took Nalia’s hands, squeezing them.  “Now I’m sorry to interrupt you girls but I just had to pop in and see you!” Suddenly she frowned, “And by way young lady, is that Anomen Delryn I overheard you referring to so impertinently?” 

Nalia’s face took on a slightly sheepish expression. “It was!” Nanny exclaimed, “Nalia, that’s certainly not very ladylike.  He’s nice young man, from a good family too. He’d be a good match too if only you…”

Nalia cut in, “Oh he’s nice enough but he’s not my type, even if it were possible. And as to his family, I don’t know that you’ve been keeping up with things Nanny. There have been a lot of rumors lately about Lord Cor’s financial losses and drinking habits.  Not that I hold Ano’s father’s behavior against him,” she added hastily seeing Nanny’s disapproving expression.

“Well, he’s _still_ a nice young man,” Nanny said in a tone that brooked no dispute. “But now, you girls were talking and I interrupted.  I’ve got things to do before Lila gets here but I _did_ want to see you Nalia.”  She gave Nalia another hug and left the room. 

The two young women looked at each other. “You were saying?” Jen asked, “Something about Haer’Dalis?”

“Oh yes, let’s see. Where was I?” Nalia paused thoughtfully. “Oh I know, anyway, Ano kept huffing and puffing in his usual way but surprisingly Haery ignored him.  That was odd because usually he doesn’t miss an opportunity to tweak Ano’s tail.  But maybe it was because Tristan jumped in and told Ano that as much as she valued his expertise in a fight, she’d needed Haery’s stealth and diplomacy over his platemail and strength this time.  I’m not sure she meant to but I _think_ she actually batted her eyes at him when she said the words ‘platemail and strength’.  Anyway he just stood there looking at her for the longest time with the silliest smile on his face.”  She pantomimed, drawing her mouth up in a goofy grin. They both started giggling again and Jen felt her heart swell slightly. It felt so _good_ to have a friend. She missed Beth and Fran but having Nalia around went a long ways towards making up for their loss.

The rest of the morning went by pleasantly and all too swiftly. After Nalia drained her teacup for the third time, she rose saying, “I’ve got to get back. Tristan will be looking for me. But I _promise_ I’ll send word if we’re going to leave town.”

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Nalia headed back towards the _Five Flagons_. She hummed as she walked across the broad street that constituted the Bridge District occasionally stopping to exchange greetings with acquaintances or examine the various wares offered her by several of the areas numerous street vendors.  All the while she wondered what it would be like to truly so far away from home, friends and family as she knew Jen was.  _I miss my father but I still have other relatives. And I do have friends!_ _Still, the only places I’ve ever been are DeArnise Castle and Athkatla. But that may change if I stay with Tristan long enough._ She felt both fearful and oddly excited at the possibility of traveling far away from all that was familiar. _I wonder if this is how Jen feels about being here._ She didn’t have time ponder the possibility however for her thought was interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice.

“Nalia?  Nalia DeArnise?  What are _you_ doing here?”

She looked around, stiffening as she saw a tall, well dressed man coming towards her.  “Isaea Roenall! You’re the last person I expected to see.” 

He crossed the street and came up to her and as they met, he held out his hands in greeting with a smile that was more predatory than pleasant. She touched his fingers with her own, her skin crawling at his touch.  He wasn’t satisfied however and grasped her hand firmly between his own, his smile broadening as he tightened his grip, trapping her. 

“Nalia, my dear, what a thing to say to an old friend.  Or more than friend actually.”

“Isaea, I have _nothing_ to say to the man whose family attacked my home and killed my father!”  She jerked her hand away and stumbled back, her eyes wide and her heart beginning to pound.  Glancing around she saw she was close to the _Five Flagons_. _I only have to get past these last couple of houses and I’m there. Still, this is a public place. Isaea wouldn’t do anything in a public place would he?_

He stepped forward, closing in on her again. “I think we have plenty to say to each other as you well know.  But such talk shouldn’t occur in a public venue.” His expression was unreadable but when he spoke again his voice contained a pleading note. “Come Nalia, let’s not quarrel publicly. I know my family has not always treated yours well but airing our concerns where any passerby can hear….” He held out his hand to her, “Please, let us go somewhere private.”

She looked at him searchingly, but saw none of his voice’s apology echoed in his expression or his eyes.  _I trusted him before and look what happened. It’s his fault my father is dead! _Anger filled her, giving her strength.“I wouldn’t go across the street with you much less anywhere _private!”_ she ground out between clenched teeth. She backed away, raising her hands to protect herself.  Isaea looked over her shoulder and nodded. She whirled around but saw nothing, then realized she’d been tricked as the cool chill of a hold spell spread came from behind her – from _behind Isaea_ – and began spreading over her.  She turned back, attempting to block the spell but her counterspell was too slow. The hostile enchantment flowed over her body, encasing and smothering her. She felt her arms and legs deaden and grow numb, leaving her frozen in place, helpless and unable to move.

The sound of horses’ hooves clattering on the cobblestones drew near and in less than a minute a carriage pulled up in front of her.  Two men jumped out, one putting a dark bag over her head just as the hold spell began to wear off.  The bag had a strong odor – a rather sickly sweet scent that she recognized as one used by bandits specializing in abduction; _Trihalo. They’re using trihalo._   She began to struggle, her breath coming in harsh gasps only to find her head spinning as the drug entered her bloodstream. The last thing she heard as darkness swallowed her up was Isaea’s voice saying, “Put her in the carriage. Gently now!”

 

* * *

[[1]](http://archiveofourown.org/javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_ednref1) Quotation by William Feather

[[2]](http://archiveofourown.org/javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_ednref2) The Cowled Wizards are a secret and powerful organization based in the capital city of Athkatla within Amn.. Their main job is to find and destroy "deviant" wizards, sorcerer sand other arcane spellcasters within the city. Use of magic within Athkalta is strictly regulated and spellcasters are required to obtain a license from the Wizards.  Although they are feared in Amn, they are tolerated because the general populace fears rogue spellcasters more. From <http://forgottenrealms.wikia.com/wiki/Cowled_Wizards>

 


	12. Fun and Games

Jen knelt on the ground beside a flowerbed, digging in the moist earth with a trowel and pulling weeds as she waited for Lila to arrive and her services to be needed indoors once again.  She worked steadily, falling into a kind of rhythm; dig-pull, dig-pull, dig-pull. Although the task itself was dull, the work and the warmth of the sun on her back were soothing and she found her thoughts wandering in an almost meditative way. Soon they had moved away from Nanny Bea's sunny garden and back to her strange dream about Haer’Dalis.

She could still picture the forest path, twisting and winding its way through the trees. Home had been so close, yet she couldn’t reach it without help. And when help had arrived, it was deadly. She rocked back on her heels thoughtfully. _Was I dreaming about Haery? Or picking up everyone’s suspicions about Haery?  Oh who knows! And I’m thinking in circles again._

 _Still, it_ was hard _not_ to think about Haer’Dalis in some way.  Usually she thought of his smile or his hands and more recently, the feeling of his arm around her shoulders. Suddenly she thought _I haven’t given any thought to Ryan in quite awhile.  It’s all been about Haery._ She pressed her lips together, mentally shaking her head as she finally admitted to herself that she liked Haer’Dalis _quite_ a lot, regardless of Nanny’s and Nalia’s warnings or even her own common sense.  

Her musings were interrupted by the sound of a door slamming and looking over her shoulder, she saw Aoife, Nanny Bea's nine-year-old granddaughter running towards her.

“Jen! I've come to play!” called the little girl. “Granny says to tell you it’s ok, she’s making tea for Mother and her.”

Jen smiled at the child's enthusiasm. “Alright, alright! Just let me finish pulling these weeds and wash my hands. Then we'll find something to do.”

“Ok,” agreed Aoife. She was an active, tomboyish girl with long coltish legs and curly brown hair that refused to stay confined in its braid. Flopping onto the grass beside Jen she said, “Look what Owen gave me!” Owen was her twelve-year-old brother. She pulled a wooden dagger from her belt, handing it to Jen. “He's been teaching me to fight. Shall I show you how after you finish weeding?”

”I'm sure your mother would _really_ appreciate that!” Jen said with a grin, thinking of Nanny Bea's very proper daughter. Lila had married a wealthy merchant and now had hopes of improving her family’s social status further by marrying her daughter into Amn's nobility. Lila had told Jen on numerous occasions, she was raising her daughter to be ‘A Lady.’

“Mother doesn't know and she _won't_ know if you don't tell her!” retorted Aoife.

Jen looked down so that Aoife couldn't see her smile. “OK I won't tell.” She finished her task and went into the house to clean up. Returning to the garden, she found Aoife waiting, standing in the middle of the grass. She’d found a couple of long garden stakes to use as swords and handed one to Jen.

“En garde!” yelled Jen, snapping into a theatrical fencing stance. She faced off against Aoife and the two came together with a thump of wooden “blades.” Jen attacked, seeking an opening that would allow her to disable her assailant.

Aoife parried the blows dealt her and began an attack that had Jen dodging and twisting to stay out of the way. Finally, she kicked out and managed to hook her foot behind Aoife's left knee, bringing the girl down in a spinning bundle.

“No fair!” Aoife shouted. She rolled to her feet, dropping her “swords” and threw her arms around Jen's legs. They collapsed together onto the grass where they lay there laughing and gasping for air.

“You're pretty good at this,” Jen said finally, looking over at her. “Do you want to be an adventurer like your Auntie Nalia when you grow up?”

“Naw, I just like to play. I want to be healer when I grow up,” Aoife replied. “Lots of people need healers ‘cos there isn't always a priest around. Gran's been teaching me about herbs. She says it takes a long time to learn them all, so I have to start young like she did. Mother doesn't like it. She says people will think I'm a witch.”

“And what’s wrong with being a witch?”  Jen asked, although she thought she knew the answer to that question already. 

“Witches can’t be ladies. That’s what Mother says anyway. And she says if I became a witch I’d grow up to be a scary old lady with 20 cats.” Aoife replied solemnly. “I’m allergic to cats.”

“I see.  Well, from what I’ve seen of Athkatla, it seems to me that it doesn’t hurt to learn how to heal yourself. Seems pretty easy to get hurt.”  Jen wriggled, settling herself more comfortably in the soft grass.

“You say that because you got hurt the other day.  Mother says it’s not because Athkatla is unsafe but it’s ‘cos of who you were with. _We’ve_ never had anyone try to hurt us and neither did Auntie Nalia until she met all her new friends – like that old knight…or that blue-haired bard with the curly ears—what's his name?”

“Haer'Dalis,” replied Jen. “And where did you hear that?”

“I heard it from Mother who heard it from one of her friends who heard it from one of _her_ friends whose housekeeper knows Gran.”   

“That’s quite a gossip chain!” Jen laughed ruefully.  _In some ways Athkatla is really just a small town._ It occurred to her however that Lila had a point.  _I’ve been all around this area alone and with Nanny and I’ve been to the Five Flagons as well and never been threatened or seen anything that alarmed me.  And there are plenty of people on the streets who seem unharmed.  _“Your mother is probably right,” she said aloud. “I’ve never had problems before.”

Aoife nodded, clearly finished with the conversation. She rolled onto her stomach and picked a strong, wide blade of grass. Stretching it tightly between her thumbs, she blew on the space between her thumb joints until it whistled loudly, her face splitting in a pleased grin at her accomplishment as she peeked at Jen to see her reaction.

“Gran says grass makes a good poultice.  Which reminds me - can I see your arm?” She propped herself upon one elbow, looking at Jen expectantly.

“Nothing much to show really.” Jen held out her bandaged arm. “It wasn't a very deep cut.”

Aoife undid the bandage, examining the shallow cut with a critical eye. “Auntie Nalia says that whatsizname - Haer'Dalis - can fight with _two_ blades. I'd like to learn that.”

“What would your mother say to THAT? Jen said with a laugh, adding as Aoife’s face fell, “No hon, I'm just kidding.  Really, if it were up to me you’d learn as much about defending yourself as you could." 

The garden's street gate creaked and Jen looked up to see Haer'Dalis coming towards them. She smirked, “Your ears must be burning.”

“Why so?” He looked puzzled for a second and then laughed. “Ah – am I the topic of discussion? That explains the sudden heat rising to this poor poet's brain. For a moment I thought it was merely the sight of such beautiful creatures as yourselves that had my mind aflame.”

“Aww…stop it!” said Aoife. She wasn’t interested in the opposite sex yet and thought such flattery was just plain icky. “We were talking about the way you fight! With two swords, like Drizzt![[1]](http://archiveofourown.org/javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_edn1) Would you show me? Jen and I have been sword fighting but I bet you're better at it than she is!”

“Aoife, we were _playing!”_ Jen exclaimed, shaking her head at the child.

Aoife ignored her, looking instead at Haer’Dalis. “ _Pleeeaase_?”

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Ah my Hummingbird, are you sure you want to learn? After all, fighting is a serious business.” 

“I _am_ serious!” she exclaimed. “Why don’t you believe me _?”_

Haer’Dalis looked at her consideringly while Jen bit her lip, wondering whether to step in.  _For all the stories Haery has told me in the last month, he’s never said anything about his own childhood. Did_ _he ever play as a child? Does he even know how to play? _“Aoife,” she said quietly, “Haer’Dalis didn’t come to play. And your mother wouldn’t agree to his teaching you to duel. And she _would_ need to agree first. Why don’t you go in the house and visit with your Gran for awhile.  You and I can play again later.”

Aoife frowned for a moment. She was clearly thinking. Then she looked up, a knowing expression on her face. “ _You_ just want to get rid of me so you can be alone with _him_.”  She turned to Haer’Dalis, “ _Pleeaase show me?”_

“Ah, you undoubtedly pose a great challenge for one such as I. So great in fact, that I must decline. For my own safety, you understand.” His face remained solemn but Jen could see his eyes were twinkling.

“Now you’re just teasing me.” Aoife said.  “Auntie Nalia says you fight very well and _you_ didn’t get hurt the other day.”

“Go on! We’ll be in soon.”  

Aoife nodded took a couple of steps towards the house then, suddenly whirled, grabbing her abandoned stick as she threw herself at Haer'Dalis. “Ha, Coward! Put up or die!”

Haer’Dalis caught her by the arms as she lunged towards him, lifting her off her feet. “Should you approach me thus in battle, little Hummingbird, this Doomguard would soon skewer you. Today however, you are most fortunate, for I've not time to finish you off.  Now, run to your grandmother, for what I would say to Jen is not for your young ears.”  He put her down, giving her slight push.

Aoife grinned and stuck her tongue out at him before heading into the house. They watched until the door closed behind her then Haer’ Dalis beckoned Jen to follow him, heading away from the house. The path he chose ended at small lily-covered pond, with a bench, shielded by a pair of large trees, next to it. The trees hid the pond from the house, providing them with a modicum of privacy.  Jen settled herself on the bench, waiting for him to follow suit.  When he didn’t but stood looking down at her, she felt her heart sink. _Oh great. Nalia promised to send a message. I bet he's here to tell me they’re to leave for - somewhere. I'll be alone here again._ _Finally she said,_ “So, what do you want to talk about?”

He remained silent for a moment, studying her then said, “Why the long face, my Kestrel? I had hoped you might welcome this poor Sparrow with pleasure. Instead I find you frowning at me.”

“Well, I _am_ glad to see you, but it just occurred to me that you’ve probably come to tell me you're off again on another one of Tristan's missions.”

“Perhaps you’re confusing me once again with the town crier or one of the _Flagon’s_ messengers. Is it not possible that I might have come just to enjoy your company?” A warm smile lit his face as he reached down and took her hand, holding it between his own.

She blushed, feeling her heart start to beat a little faster. “I don’t know.  _Is_ it possible?”

“After our adventure the other day, how could you doubt it?  I _do_ enjoy your company.” His fingers squeezed hers gently.  “Although I also must confess you are correct.  Tristan does have business that will take us away for awhile, although not for long, I hope.”

Her face fell and she glanced away hoping he hadn’t seen her changed expression. She took a deep breath, and forced herself to smile before looking back him and saying a light tone, “If _only_ I had a way to get one _my_ world’s weapons!  If I had an Uzi I could go with you! I'm tired of being left behind! And it sounds like my visit to Cambrel must be postponed.”

He looked pleased but puzzled, “This Sparrow would welcome your company on our journey, tis true. But, you speak of the unknown. What, pray tell, is …Ooozi?  He stumbled slightly over the last word.

“ _An_ Uzi is a kind of gun. About this big.” She pulled her hands out of his and held them up to approximate the size of the weapon. A gun is an um - metal rod that fires a continuous stream of projectiles. Anyway, let's just say it's a pretty destructive weapon and leave it at that. She shrugged, “And I don’t have one so I guess I have to stay here.”

“It sounds like a marvelous weapon – a _glorious_ weapon and one I would give much to use. And perhaps I shall when I travel to your world.” His lips quirked humorously and he said, “It seems my lovely Kestrel, that your predatory spirit is beginning to show at last. Perhaps you are beginning to gain an appreciation for the Doomguard philosophy?”

“Chaos and the inevitable destruction of all things? I only appreciate it in action films – uh plays, I mean.” A picture of the bandits who attacked them flashed before her eyes and she shuddered. “Besides I'm not really all that warlike. I'm just tired of being left behind.” She looked up at him, her expression somber. “I'm frustrated and a bit confused actually. I’d hate the fighting. I was _so_ scared the other day. And I think Tristan was right. I’d be a liability to all of you. Yet as much as I like Nanny Bea, I’m tired of sitting around.” A strand of hair fell over her eyes as she spoke and she pushed it away irritably.

He sat down on the bench beside her and looked at her for a long moment, clearly considering his next words. The strand of hair fell forward into her eyes once again, and reaching out he carefully brushed it off her face, saying gently, “My poor Kestrel, I have watched you for some time and know this sedentary life is not suited to one of your spirit. You will return home if that's your wish, I _swear_ it. In the meantime, this Sparrow would offer you what comfort he can, if you'll but allow it.”

Jen's heart began beat uncomfortably fast at his closeness. “Haer'Dalis…I…I …don’t know exactly what you’re offering.”

He squeezed her fingers slightly, stroking the backs of her hands with his thumbs. “Don’t you?”

“Well, actually I think I do, and that’s just it.” She attempted a playful tone, “Tell me good sir, do you make this type of offer frequently?”

He looked at her solemnly. “I'll not hide that I've had other loves. But do not disdain what this bard would offer. Or is your wish to return home because someone awaits you there?

A picture of Ryan formed in her mind as she thought, W _e don’t have anything exactly. We didn’t have time to figure it out._ She shook her head, “No. There's no one right now.”

“Then allow this bard to share his feelings for you and give him hope that you return them in the same measure.” He took her hands, raising them to his lips.

Jen shook her head with a smile, “Haery, please don't mistake me. I'm flattered, but I’m just trying to understand what your feelings truly are at this point. I mean you haven’t known me that long and you’ve constantly told me that all things are transient and short-lived. So I assume this applies to relationships as well? I don't know if ‘forever’ really exists and I’m certainly not asking for anything close to it but I'm also not anxious to be….” She stopped, searching for the right word, “well, I’m not looking to be a diversion.”

'Tis true, that all feelings fade with time and love is no different from any other emotion, but while it lasts, I can promise to love you truly and well. And somehow, I do not think my feelings for you will be short-lived,” he replied.

She smiled, wanting to believe him in spite of the fact that a cynical little voice in the back of her mind said otherwise. The bench was small, but somehow he managed to move even closer to her, his hands sliding up her arms to cup her face as his eyes met hers.  She stared back at him unblinkingly until finally he smiled and bent forward to kiss her gently. She found herself responding to him, her lips parting as she kissed him back. He pulled her closer, kissing her more deeply as his arms tightened around her.  For once Haer’Dalis wasn’t wearing either armor or his reinforced vest and she could feel his heart beating through the thin shirt he wore and knew he could feel hers as well.  She wriggled slightly, fitting herself more comfortably against him becoming lost in the feeling of his lips on hers and his fingers on her back.

It was a long time before they went back to the house.

 

* * *

[[1]](http://archiveofourown.org/javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294588829#_ednref1) Drizzt Do'Urden (full name Drizzt Daermon N'a'shezbaernon) is an atypical drow elf who has forsaken both the evil ways of his people and their home in the Underdark. [http://forgottenrealms.wikia.com/wiki/Drizzt_Do’Urden](http://forgottenrealms.wikia.com/wiki/Drizzt_Do'Urden)

 


	13. Kidnapped

Nalia awoke suddenly, gasping for breath in the airless stuffy room.  Her body felt stiff and sore but she couldn’t do much to ease her aches and pains for her hands were tied behind her back. The room was hot and she felt a strong inclination to sneeze making her suspect that it had been weeks or even months since it had been thoroughly dusted. She stretched as best she could then wriggled to the edge of the low narrow bed, swinging her legs over the side and forcing herself into a sitting position. Her shoulders and arms ached painfully in their unnatural position behind her back.  _At least my legs aren’t bound._

She peered into the darkness seeing nothing but dim, shadowy shapes. _Most likely furniture_. The house was quiet – too quiet - and for a moment she thought it was deserted but as she continued to listen, she heard faintly muffled noises below. The sounds, though muted, left her weak with relief. She just didn’t like being alone, particularly in the dark. The feeling was irrational, but the knowledge that her fear was illogical didn’t make it any better. Besides, she had a cure.  It was a simple little spell really, taught her by an old gypsy whose caravan had stopped at the DeArnise stronghold when she was about twelve.

She moved her fingers, trying to reach the knots in the rope binding her wrists together. After a few minutes, she gave up and instead drew her knees up to her chest and curling into a ball in the hopes that she contort herself sufficiently to bring her arms under and around her rear end but she had no success with that either for her long skirt was too bulky and got in the way.  Frustrated tears rose to her eyes. The old woman hadn’t needed to use _her_ cupped her hands as a spell focus but Nalia had rarely been successful without doing so.  Still, she knew it was possible and closed her eyes so she could concentrate on the sound of her breath rising and falling as she channeled her will, creating the picture of a glowing blue ball in her mind. _“Fiat lux!”_ she whispered.  At first nothing happened but she continued her inward focus, maintaining the image as she slowly opened her eyes. A soft blue glow formed in the air above her and grew stronger.  Smiling grimly she struggled to her feet, looking around the room.

The room was small and contained only the barest of necessities – a bed, a washstand with a partially filled pitcher and a chamberpot. She frowned at the sight of the pot. _How am I supposed to use that with my hands tied behind my back? _ A curtain covered a small cupboard in the corner of the room. She turned so she could tug at the drape with her bound hands. It slid a couple of inches to one side and she peered inside and saw it held nothing but a few empty pegs. The room had no window and she suspected that she was on the upper floor of a house, possibly in the servant's quarters.

She wondered how long she'd been asleep.  When she’d come to after her initial abduction and drugging, she’d found herself lying across a chaise in the sitting room of unfamiliar house with Isaea Roenall watching her from a nearby chair. What little light had pierced the room’s closely drawn curtains had been dim; leading her to believe it was early evening. As soon as he’d realized she was awake, they’d talked – _well he’d talked–_ about what he’d termed as “her duty as a noblewoman” for nearly an hour before roughly escorting her upstairs and forcing her to drink a sleeping potion. She remembered him pushing her towards the bed but nothing else until she’d awakened just now. _I probably slept 8 or 9 hours._

She began to explore the room cautiously, making her way to the door. The glowing blue ball hung above her head, allowing her to clearly see that the knob had been removed. _Not that I could open it any way with my hands tied behind my back._ The sound of footsteps followed by the loud scraping sound of a bar being lifted just outside sent her scurrying across the room.  She quickly extinguished her light as the door opened slowly and her abductor entered the room.

He was dressed in fine chainmail with both longsword and dagger hanging by his side; his appearance handsome and noble by any measure – truly a young girl's romantic image of a knight in shining armor. Nalia however was not impressed, saying scornfully, “You're quite well armed, Isaea. And my hands are tied behind my back. Are you so afraid of me?”

“Not all my dear. But I am on duty at Government House this morning. However, I did not want to leave without first visiting you.” he replied calmly.

“Then tell me, what is the meaning of all this?” she demanded.

He came towards her and she backed up as fast as she could, stumbling a little in her haste. The wall rose up behind her, leaving her with no place to go. Isaea smiled, baring his teeth as he pinned her there, his left hand above her head.  She tried to twist under his arm but he dropped his hand to her shoulder, holding her in place.  “You know very well what I’m about. As I told you last night, Nalia, I came to find you and am keeping you here for your own good. You are clearly distraught – no surprise given the invasion of your family home. You have not been thinking clearly since your father died. When I heard what happened I came immediately to offer you aid and comfort, yet you refused to listen to reason and honor your commitment to marry me. You seem more willing to listen to strangers than to those who know and care for you, such as myself.”

“You? Care for me?! Hardly. What you care for is my _lands_ , Isaea and the status that a connection with the DeArnise family would bring. You _don’t_ care about _me_!” She twisted again, struggling to get away but could not break free.

He raised his hand, gently touching her cheek, his breath hot on her face although his tone became soft and pleading as he said, “ _Please_ Nalia. Listen to reason. Drop this foolishness and return to your duties as a noble of Amn. What you’re doing – traveling with adventurers is dangerous.  If _you_ won’t take of yourself, then I will. This is for your own good!”

She drew herself up with as much dignity as she could given the awkwardness of her hands behind her, saying in an icy tone, “When you came to my family’s home after the troll invasion six weeks ago, I made my opinion of you _quite clear_ , Isaea. I will not change my mind now. Arranging for my home to be overrun by monsters, allowing my father to be murdered, not to _mention_ kidnapping me and keeping me locked away with my hands tied behind my back is _hardly_ the best way to convince me of your affection!”

“Then my decision stands. As I told you last night, you have given me little choice but to show you the error of your ways. You _know_ that I am acting within my rights. We have been handfasted for nearly a year[[i]](http://archiveofourown.org/javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294776880#_edn1) – you signed the document yourself.  Since you will not behave of your own accord, Mother will make sure you do so.  She will be here shortly to take on your supervision and to plan our wedding, but until that time you shall remain here in this room under guard. Don’t try to escape. My guards are everywhere. As to your hands,” he drew his dagger, “I don’t believe there’s a need for them to be bound any longer.”  He stepped back slightly allowing her to turn around, then sliced through the rope binding her hands.

She pulled her arms and hands forward, gritting her teeth against the wave of pain that followed as blood rushed back into her shoulders and wrists leaving her feeling faint and slightly nauseous as she staggered to the bed and collapsed upon it with an undignified thump dimly aware of Isaea’s watchful eye.  After a minute, seemingly satisfied that she was too weak to try anything, he went to the door and knocked on it. As it opened he turned back to face her once again. “By the way - don't try to use magic. You'll find that only simple little spells - like that lighting trick of yours - will work. I've hired my own mages, you see, to blanket the house and ensure you're kept safe and quiet.” He laughed at her look of astonishment. “What? You thought I didn't know about your little tricks? You'd be surprised at what I know about you. Meanwhile, you're at the top of the house where no one can hear you or think to look for you. You're quite alone my dear.”

She tried to laugh derisively but sound that came out of her throat was more of a harsh squeak. “You underestimate my friends. They'll be looking for me, you know.”

“Let them. Even if they find you, they have no means to free you. I'm acting within the law. So think about that and about your promise to me.” He looked at her soberly, “You _will_ marry me Nalia. I'd much prefer a willing bride, but I'm certainly not going to be a stickler about it.”

With that he left the room, his exit giving Nalia a glimpse of armed guards. As she heard the thumping sound of the bar being drawn across the door, she sank onto the bed and buried her face in her hands.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A loud banging broke into Jen's thoughts. The noise was loud and insistent; not knock of a visitor.  She jumped to her feet and ran to open the front door, pulling it door open with such a jerk that the boy standing on the step nearly fell into the hallway. She recognized him as one of the errand boys from the _Five Flagons_.

“Message for yer” he replied.

“Well what is it?” she asked impatiently.

“Message is from the bard that’s been stayin’ at the _Flagon._ He says to tell yer that yer friend Nalia didn’t come back last night and they’re goin’ to look for her. That’s it.” He held out his hand, an expectant look on his face. 

She stared back at him blankly for a second and then muttered, “oh yeah, right…” before fumbling in her pocket for a couple of coppers. She wanted to rush to the inn to help in the search or at least get more information and it occurred to her that Nanny also needed to be informed.  “Come in and wait here! I might need to send a message back,” she said, opening the door wider and motioning to him to enter the hall. He stood, looking around the tiny vestibule. “Wait here!” she repeated and ran down the hall in search of Nanny Bea.  She found her in the kitchen making tea.

 “What's the matter, child?” the old woman asked.

“It's Nalia. There’s a messenger here from the _Flagon_ – from Haery – saying she’s disappeared and they’re going to look for her. What do you think could have happened?”

Nanny Bea reached for the nearest chair and sat down, her eyes wide with alarm. “I don’t know although I do have some suspicions. Do you know if she made it back to the Five Flagons after she left here yesterday?”

Jen shook her head. “Haery’s message seems to imply that she didn’t.”

Nanny stroked her chin thoughtfully. “That group of Nalia’s – those new friends of hers, won’t have any idea where to start.  I might be able to help with that.  Is the messenger still here?”  At Jen’s affirmative nod she continued, “Good. Then send him back with a message asking them to come see me. In fact, the sooner they come here, the better.”

Jen nodded, running out to send the boy on his return errand. When she returned, she found Nanny sitting at the table, thoughtfully sipping tea.  The old woman looked up as she entered the room. “The more I think about it the less I like it.  When you met Nalia – she was returning from her family’s country home, was she not?”

“Yes,” Jen said, “She said someone had hired a mercenary band to let trolls into her home. She hired Tristan to help her get rid of them.”

“So none of their neighbors came to help?”

“She said one family finally showed up but it was _after_ Tristan’s group had succeeded in liberating castle. Why?”

“Were the Roenalls the ones who came to Nalia’s aid?” Nanny Bea asked sharply.

“The name sounds familiar, but I don’t really know,” Jen replied. “Is it important?”

Nanny nodded slowly, “It could be.” She rose from her chair, “I hope her friends arrive soon. If what I think has happened is right, Nalia is in danger.  And if they won’t come here, then I’m going to them!” At Jen’s startled look, the old woman added, “I know a great deal more about Athkatlan society than do you or most of those new friends of Nalia’s – particularly where it concerns women. If I’m correct, then I think they’ll need all the help they can get to find her and bring her away safely. We’ll wait an hour.  In the meantime why don’t you put a few of your things together?  That way if you’re needed for anything you can go with Nalia’s companions to find her.  Don’t worry about me – if that happens I’ll go stay with Lila.”

Jen looked at the old woman gratefully as she got up to go to her room. “Thank you,” she said. “I will be back shortly.”

 

 

* * *

[[i]](http://archiveofourown.org/javascripts/tiny_mce/plugins/paste/pasteword.htm?1294776880#_ednref1) Handfasting is a historical term used for the late medieval and early modern betrothals; i.e., the exchange of concent to marriage and agreeing to marriage contracts.  There are a number of variations on the practice and I have taken some liberties with this for storytelling purposes.

 

 


	14. Stage Plan

The wooden floor of the stage in the _Five Flagons_ playhouse was cold, but Jen, sitting cross-legged at its edge, didn't mind. Under the circumstances she preferred being in company to being alone, so the chill seemed a small price to pay.  There _were_ chairs in the dressing rooms as well as amongst the pile of props piled at the back of the stage and she’d retrieved one for Nanny Bea but didn’t want one herself.

Her fingers drummed against the floor, creating a soothing rhythm as she fidgeted in an attempt to remain patient. It had only been three hours since she’d learned of Nalia’s disappearance but the time had passed slowly and if felt to her as if the wait had been much longer.  

Earlier, when Tristan had not appeared in answer to Nanny’s summons, Nanny had kept her word, sending Jen to hire a carriage to bring them to the _Five Flagons_. Tristan had not been at the inn when they arrived, but she returned shortly thereafter, listening to Nanny Bea’s well-informed conjectures with concern and once all her comrades, with the exception of Haer’Dalis, had returned from the areas in which they had been searching, she’d had Nanny repeat her theories again.  The ensuing discussion had become loud, gaining the interest of others in the taproom, so the group had eventually adjourned to the inn’s abandoned playhouse to assure the confidentiality of their conversation.  

Jen watched Tristan pacing the floor, gesturing and talking animatedly to her colleagues as they waited for Haer’Dalis to arrive. Although they had welcomed her readily enough, they’d gone back to talking amongst themselves and largely ignored her so after a few moments of standing at the periphery, feeling rather like the new kid in class, she’d chosen to go sit on the stage by herself. Only Nanny Bea, ensconced on a chair dragged hastily from a dressing room to center stage seemed truly calm, listening to the conversations flowing around her ranging from snatches of angry speech to reasoned debate.

“When I get my hands on Isaea Roenall – assuming you’re right in this Mistress Ducey,” Tristan said, glancing towards Nanny Bea, “I'm going to break his thick skill open with an axe!” She spoke firmly and continued striding energetically back and forth in front of the stage.

Anomen, falling in step beside her, glanced down, giving her a broad smile. “I'd give much to see you use an axe, My Lady. I thought you much too attached to that rather oversized sword of yours to sully your hands with any other type of weapon.”

She ran a hand through her thick dark hair and sighed. “I know. I'm overreacting I guess, but I remember how he behaved after he arrived at Nali’s home and saw we’d defeated the trolls. And he _certainly_ wasn’t pleased to find that Nalia had already asked me to act as the new lord of the castle. As I recall, he was rather rude about it. He’d clearly thought it would be his to take.  "Bastard!”  She ended on a note of vehemence which left Anomen grinning but he did not reply for just then the sound of rapid footsteps was heard and they turned as the doors swung wide to admit Haer’Dalis into the theatre. He walked swiftly up the aisle towards them and jumped up onto the stage.   

Tristan looked at him questioningly but he shook his head. “No. I found neither sign of Nalia nor any rumors of her whereabouts, but I _did_ find a guardsman who recently suffered some _embarrassment,_ shall we say, at Isaea’s hands. He is not fond of Isaea as one might imagine and has been watching him lately, looking for an opportunity for revenge.” 

“Oh? So what’s Isaea been up to?” asked Tristan resuming her measured pace back and forth across the boards. 

“Isaea appears to be involved in _several_ things – all rather disreputable activities; slavery and smuggling amongst them. My contact gave me the names of a couple of sailors who might be persuaded to provide even more information about Isaea’s other activities.” He smirked, shaking his head. “Poor Isaea.  I found his comrade’s loyalty to a fellow brother-in-arms to be truly touching. Indeed, with such friends, who needs enemies?” He glanced at Anomen. “As someone who, as rumor has it, inspires similar loyalty in his fellows, I’m sure you understand.” 

Anomen eyed him with dislike. While it was true that he was not the most popular squire within his Order given his pomposity and thin-skinned defensiveness, he hated to be reminded of it. “A fine sentiment coming from _you,_ bard. As if _you’ve_ ever been loyal to anyone or anything.”  His voice rose, “And from what feeble playwright did you steal that _last_ bit of wisdom?” 

Haer’Dalis laughed, his expression and tone contemptuous as he replied,

  _“Your learning's at fault this time, anyway;  
Don't waste it again on a live bird, I pray.  
I'm an owl; you're another. Sir Critic, good-day!”_ ** _[1]_**

Jaheira pressed her lips together, hiding a smile as Anomen bristled, his fists clenching as he headed for the bard.  Haer’Dalis, having evoked the intended response, smiled mockingly, his fingers moving idly over the hilts of his swords as he watched Anomen advancing towards him.  Jen stood up. She wasn’t sure what she planned to do but before she could move, Tristan broke in, her voice overriding the noise in the room.

“Peace!  We’re here to talk about how to locate and rescue Nalia, not to quarrel amongst ourselves!” She stepped between them, putting her hand on Anomen’s arm.  

“Indeed,” echoed Nanny, speaking up in the lull that followed. “Perhaps now that we're all here, we can discuss the situation?” Her calm voice cut through the tension in the room. She motioned them towards her and the group obediently gathered around her chair. Anomen continued to glare at Haer'Dalis who ignored him and went over to stand next to Jen, sliding his arm about her waist. She looked up at him with a smile, flushing slightly as she saw Nanny Bea glance towards them, eyebrows lifted. Nanny shook her head and then turned back straightening her chair as she faced the group.

“Why don’t you sit down so I can see you?” Haer’Dalis, Jen and Jaheira immediately seated themselves on the floor while the others, clad in heavy armor, went to the back of the stage to retrieve chairs for themselves.

After the group had gathered around her, Nanny said, “Your willingness to rescue Nalia is admirable. But please, _please_ don't do anything rash. If Isaea has done what I believe – if he _has_ kidnapped her, then I’m afraid he _hasn't_ acted outside of the law. In fact, he is within his rights. Very much so in fact, for Nalia and Isaea are more than engaged – they are nearly married.” 

“Are you speaking of a handfasting?” Keldorn asked in astonishment. “If a handfasting has been performed,” he said slowly in a thoughtful tone, “then Nalia _is_ Isaea Roenall's wife for all intents and purposes.

“Huh? What do you mean?” Tristan, who’d been slouching slightly, shot up straight in her chair. “I thought a handfasting was just an old-fashioned form of engagement.  And engagements _can_ be broken.”

“Actually, it's a bit more than that,” Keldorn replied. "It's a ceremony that symbolizes a first stage of marriage. It's not used very often now, but when it is, the vows are taken quite seriously. Usually handfasted couples are joined around the young woman's 16th or 17th birthday with the expectation that they will truly be married within a year and a day. While I understand that Nalia is a bit older that the usual handfasted bride, the custom doesn’t change.”

“Ah.” said Tristan, “Well, it seems a bit barbaric to me. It isn't as if Nalia is a piece of property and she's been pretty clear about her lack of interest in Isaea. I think we should just find her and ask how she feels about it.”

“Not so fast,” said Keldorn, “I _really_ don't think you understand what this means, Tristan.”

“Understand what?” asked Tristan in an irritated tone. “That's she's tied to that greasy mongrel based on an ancient tradition? Fine. We don't have to _kill_ him, we just have to dig up some dirt that'll put him in jail for the rest of his life and void their engagement. I suggest we start checking on some of those allegedly illegal activities of his.”  She folded her arms across her chest, a frown wrinkling her forehead.

“Wait!” Anomen held up his hand. “Tristan, Keldorn’s right.  If she's been handfasted, then there's a legal document signed by their fathers and by both of them as well. If Isaea _is_ involved in illegal activities then the agreement would make Nalia liable even though she has not been a part of them. And under the circumstances, her property _is_ Isaea Roenall's for all intents and purposes so any fines assessed to him will be hers as well.”

“Yes,” Nanny added, “That's what I'm afraid of.”  She smiled approvingly at Anomen, then turned to Tristan. “If you just run out and “dig up some dirt” as you so colorfully put it, you will very likely end up harming them both.” She stopped and looked sternly at Tristan. “And I won't let you hurt my little girl.”

“Alright,” Tristan said with a loud and exasperated sigh.  “But where does that leave us?”

“I'm willing to listen as long as I think your plan will give Nalia her freedom and her property as well as guaranteeing Isaea won't bother her again.” Tristan said, crossing her arms.  The others nodded.

Nanny's wicked smile contrasted sharply with her mild, grandmotherly appearance, “I think you'll approve. As a start however, I would say that you and your friends need to become less conspicuous. You've become quite a familiar sight in Athkatla and at the _Five Flagons_ in particular. Your company has been gaining a name for itself. People are beginning to recognize you and that means Isaea will find it easy to track your every move. He’s a Captain in the City Guard after all, which means he can legitimately assign men to keep an eye on you. So you’ll need to make it difficult for him.  Moving to a less public inn would be a start. The _Iron Rose_ for example, is not far from here yet it is smaller and less well-known. And with fewer people wandering in and out it will be much more difficult for someone to spy on you without being seen themselves.”

“Good point.” Tristan said, nodding thoughtfully. “Given that the Guard is stretched quite thinly these days, they tend to patrol only the most public places. So moving to a smaller inn located is a less popular location would not only make it less likely for guards to be on duty but should they appear, they are more like to standout and thus will be easier to avoid.

“I would also suggest that Jen might be of use to you in this as she is completely unknown in Athkatla. My daughter, Lila may also have contacts that can serve you.” 

“I’m not sure what role Jen could play. It seems clear that she doesn’t have the skills to join our party.”

“Would you _not_ talk about me as if I weren’t here?” Jen snapped. Although surprised by Nanny's words, she was tired of waiting and of feeling useless.  She looked at Nanny. “Did you have something in mind?”

“I do,’ Nanny replied. She looked at Tristan somberly, “Not all the skills needed for this venture are martial. Sometimes just being unknown and having a pair of watchful eyes is more important. In fact, much of my knowledge of the Roenalls is based upon just that –unobtrusive observation –my own as well as that of friends. Most nobles ignore their servants yet we are ones who care for them, raise their families and manage their wealth.”

Keldorn nodded slowly in acknowledgement and then looked at the others. “She’s right you know. Most have no notion of how much their servants truly know about them.”  He looked at Nanny Bea, “So Mistress Ducey, what are you proposing?”

Nanny spent the next quarter hour, laying out her knowledge of the Roenalls’ vulnerabilities and ways to exploit them. The others listened quietly, asking occasional questions. Before long however, they had agreed to a plan.  As they finished, Tristan turned to Jen. “If you’re going to work with us, I guess you’d better join us at the inn. We can share information much more easily if we’re all in the same place.”

“But won’t that connect me back to you too easily?” Jen asked. “I do want to help but if I’m to remain anonymous wouldn’t it be easier to do if I stayed at Nanny’s?”

“Possibly, but assuming Nalia’s been abducted, those who’ve taken her must also know of her connection to Mistress Ducey and therefore, your connection as well.  So, if you’re to help us, you should disappear along with us,” Tristan replied.

Nanny Bea glanced at Jen, “I won’t say I like the idea of you staying in an inn.”  She glanced meaningfully at Haer’Dalis. “But it makes sense and I know you’re dying to do something. Don’t worry about me. I will be fine without you for a few days and I can always go to Lila’s if need be. Let me go home and I’ll arrange for your things to be brought to you. And I _would_ like to go home now if you would be kind enough to ask the innkeeper to hire a carriage for me.”  She rose and the others stood up as well. 

Jen offered Nanny her arm, assisting her as she navigated the stage’s shallow steps and went up the theatre aisle.  Behind them a babble of conversation broke out only to be cut off as Tristan quickly brought the group to order, rapidly assigning tasks that would speed the group’s exodus from the _Five Flagons_.  Keldorn and Anomen were first out the door having been assigned the responsibility of arranging transport of the group’s armor and other baggage. They were followed shortly by Jaheira and Tristan to arrange for new lodgings. Haer’Dalis however, remained behind to search through the remaining props and costumes abandoned in the Sigil Troupe’s hurried exit, looking for anything that might be of use for their upcoming venture.    

Jen helped Nanny Bea up the stairs to the taproom once the others had left.  After finding a seat for the older woman in a chair by inn’s roaring fire, she went in search of the innkeeper to hire a carriage, returning to keep her company until it arrived. Nanny sat quietly, her shoulders slumped. Finally, she said, “You must think me very poor company, my dear.”

“Not at all,” Jen replied, “But I’d be surprised if you weren’t a _little_ tired. I know I am.  Are you sure you don’t want me to come home with you?”

“No.  I’ll be fine.  Besides, Lila is coming by later and she can look after her old mother for a while,” she said, giving Jen a slight smile.  “But I will say that I’m a bit worried about you.”

 “Whatever for?” Jen asked.

Nanny’s looked at Jen, her expression one of utmost seriousness. “I saw what transpired between Haer’Dalis and you earlier and for all your previous protestations it seems that things have moved forward between the two of you. And not in the direction I’d hoped.” She shook her head. “There’s no good that can come from it, you know. At least none that I can see.  And now you’re going to be staying with them – with _him –_ and that worries me for I think he can be very persuasive.”

Blushing, Jen replied, “I’ll be _ok. Really._ He’s not going to talk me into anything.” _At least he won’t talk me into anything I don’t want to be talked into._

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the carriage. Jen helped Nanny to her feet and out to the carriage, overseeing the driver as he helped her into it and shut the door. “I’ll come by soon,” she told Nanny. “I promise.  And I’ll be fine, you’ll see.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The Owl Critic, James T. Fields (1817-1881)


	15. Understandings

Haer'Dalis found Jen a short time later and took her upstairs with him as he went to pack his own belongings.  After entering the room he shared with Anomen and Keldorn, he shut the door, bolting it behind them. Jen raised her eyebrows, “Should I begin to fear for my virtue?”

He laughed. “Fear is not what I hoped would come to mind,” he said and bent to kiss her.  She leaned into him, reaching up to clasp her hands behind his neck. 

As the kiss ended, she slid out of his arms. “Your roommates will be back soon and I don’t think they’ll appreciate finding the door locked when they return.”

He laughed, catching her hand and drawing her back to him. “We'll see when the time comes, meanwhile I would prefer they not easily interrupt us.” He brushed her lips with his own before adding, “I'm looking forward to privacy as well as the loss of your duenna, my lovely Kestrel!”

She laughed, shaking her head at him. “And what makes you think that the absence of Nanny Bea will provide you with much advantage?” Then relenting slightly, she added “ _Privacy_ might be nice, but frankly I think the odds are better of finding it at Nanny's than with this group. From what Nalia told me - and your current lodgings demonstrate – Tristan’s only likely to rent two rooms and separate the group by sex.” 

“True, but before much longer I think you'll find Tristan willing spend a few extra pence,” he replied, grinning wickedly. “If you hadn't noticed, she and our fair-haired knight have become quite cozy lately and undoubtedly will soon wish for some _privacy_ of their own.” He paused, his gaze turning thoughtful. “In fact, I'll suggest it to them in case they haven’t already thought of it.” He grimaced, pretending to shudder. “ _She_ might enjoy his company but _I_ certainly tire of him. “ 

“Yes, I'd noticed you getting on each other's nerves downstairs.  Why don't you two get along?”

“It's quite simple…Anomen objects to associating with one such as myself.” He glanced at her and then looked away. “I have bad blood, you know and our noble Anomen's is quite pure, he said. His voice held a faint note of distain. “He'd much prefer that Tristan throw me out on my ear.  Still, I do gain a certain ironic amusement from our gallant knight's ability to overlook our lovely leader's heritage when he can't ignore mine.”  He sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling her down beside him and put his arm around her waist.

“What do you mean exactly? That he dislikes non-humans?  No, that can’t be it, Tristan’s human.  And what about Jaheira? He doesn’t seem to mind _her_.  Why do you think he dislikes _you_?”  She grinned. “Other than the fact that you seem to enjoy tormenting him unmercifully, of course!”

He grinned back at her and said, “True, I like to tweak his nose, but his dislike is based upon more than that. He distrusts the unfamiliar. Although he's not alone; such distrust is not an uncommon trait in the general populace.”  He spoke casually but Jen noted his nonchalance contradicted by the frown which flitted across his face.

She tilted her head, looking at him through slightly narrowed eyes. “So you’re saying people don’t trust you?” She remembered her discussion with Nanny. _Demon blood. Nanny said he had demon blood. Still, all I’ve heard are rumors. I’d like to hear the truth from him._

“Well,” he began and then stopped, looking at her as if reluctant to go further.

“Go on,” she said encouragingly, noting his reticence. “What's so strange about Tristan? Or you?”  You're not going to tell me you can change into some kind of fiend are you? ”

He sighed ruefully, “No, not exactly. Do you know what I am?”

“You mean do I know you’re not human?  Yes, I do know that.  Nalia and Nanny have both told me that you’re a tiefling. But what does that mean exactly?”

He withdrew his arm from her waist and turned to face her. “A person such as myself – a tiefling – may be many things. But tieflings have one thing in common regardless of whatever else we may be.”  His eyes caught and held hers as he said slowly, “The thing that makes us what we are…well, ‘tis this.  All of us can trace our connections back to some degree of fiend or demon. Not a recent connection you understand, but a connection nonetheless.”

Intuition told her that he was expecting her to be surprised and perhaps even shocked by his revelation. As he watched for her reaction, his eyes seemed to grow cold and aloof and she suddenly felt very alone in the room. It struck her that for some reason he seemed to be preparing himself for her rejection.  Jen had been raised according to the Golden Rule – _do unto others as you would have them do unto you –_ and Haer’Dalis had certainly treated her well in the short time she’d known him.  She had no reason to treat him poorly, much less rebuff him for something over which he had not the slightest control. Still, even though she found herself drawn to him, she had to admit there _was_ something alien about him that others might find repellant, although she personally didn’t understand it.  There were many things about Faerun that her rather logical self struggled to comprehend.  What she did understand and what seemed most important at the moment was what it was like to feel alone, unvalued and unwanted. _If it hadn’t been Haery and Nalia, I’d be feeling pretty desperate by now._

She therefore recognized his withdrawal for what it most likely was – self-defense – and picked up his hand, giving it a sympathetic squeeze. “So what you’re talking about is an ancestor? As in several generations back?  That would make the connection pretty faint in _my_ book. Is that what Anomen objects to?”

He relaxed slightly, his hand returning the pressure of hers. “Anomen is not the only one. Tieflings are ‘known’ to be evil or at least untrustworthy, so it's thought best to be suspicious of us.” He opened his eyes wide and bared his teeth, grimacing horribly, “Beware me! I am a tiefling, bold and bad!”

She grinned, but her tone was sympathetic as she replied, “Poor Haery.”

“My Kestrel, I don't need pity.” He shrugged, “I know what I am and I accept it in full – would that others did as much. For my part, I trust that most of the populace will act in typical fashion, which allows me to stay one step ahead of them.”

 _He sounds so dismissive._ “Is that what you expect of me as well?” The words burst out of her before she could stop them. __

He shook his head slowly. “No.”

“Well that’s good. I don’t make a habit of treating people badly based upon rumor you know.”

He looked at her, his face becoming devoid of expression as he replied, “You wouldn’t be the first to do so, my Kestrel.”

“Stop it!” she said. “Is this a test or something? I’m _not_ Anomen. ”

His expression softened and he began to smile. “No, you’re not. You’re considerably prettier for one thing.” He moved closer to slide his arm around her once again.  “I owe you an apology. ‘Twill be good to be away from Ano. His suspicions are wearing and bring out the worst in me at times.” He picked her hand up out of her lap, raising it his lips.

She smiled and they looked at each other with in a sudden warm rush of comprehension. What Jen was about to say however was lost as the door knob rattled.  A second later they heard pounding on the door followed by Anomen's voice, “I know you're in there, tiefling! Open the door before I beat it down!”

“Certainly,” replied Haer'Dalis hastily gathering up his belongings and thrusting them into his pack. He flung open the door. “The room's all yours. Jen and I were just leaving.”

Anomen stood in the doorway. He didn't say anything as they passed him and headed down the stairs.  As they left the room Jen thought, _Haery didn’t tell me about Tristan._

 


	16. Dispersal

A short time later, a procession made its way down the street; six adults accompanied by one of the numerous small boys from the _Five Flagon's_ stables pulling a handcart containing the two trunks filled with theatrical costumes and accouterments that had not fit into the wagon transporting the party’s packs and other goods to their new location.   

 _Nanny was right, this group is hardly inconspicuous,_ Jen thought.

The same thing apparently occurred to Tristan for within a couple of minutes she motioned them to stop. After sending the stableboy on by himself she said, “I think we should split up – take separate routes. We’ll meet up again in front of the _Iron Rose Inn._ ” The party exchanged glances, but no one moved. “Go on!” she said, her hands making shooing motions. She turned and headed up the street with Anomen trailing her.

Keldorn started to follow, stopping as Jaheria stepped into his path.  “Tristan’s right. We need to separate.”  He attempted to push past her but she refused to budge. “Nothing will happen while those two are out of your sight,” she added, tugging at his arm.  After a minute he nodded and followed her off in the opposite direction.

Haer'Dalis caught Jen by the hand, hurrying after Tristan. “A word with you my Raven, before Jen and I go our own way,” he called to her.

She stopped and waited. “What is it?”

“I've been giving some thought to our upcoming enterprise and to developing the character I'm about to play. As an actor, I _know_ that the smallest details are of vast importance in convincing the audience that one truly _is_ the character. Therefore, I must ask for your help, my Raven.”

“Yes, yes,” said Anomen impatiently, “We all know how dedicated you are to your charlatan craft.”  He adjusted the straps holding his weapons, seating them more firmly across his broad shoulders and preparing to leave but Tristan stopped him with a quick hand to his arm.

“Please, Anomen – don't start this again. I'll need you both if we're to rescue Nalia.” Tristan turned back to Haer'Dalis. “I don't understand. What more help do you need?  When we discussed the plan, I agreed to provide you with sufficient means to gain Lord Farrington Roenall's attention. After all, the man has a reputation for gaming and if Nanny Bea is correct, has recently suffered some ruinous losses. He'll be eager enough to accept the friendship of an apparently easy - and wealthy mark.”

“True. A man whose tastes run to games of chance is often a man easily led,” he replied. “However, my thoughts run not in terms of convincing him at the gaming table, but rather to supporting whatever he may try to learn of me afterwards. Even if _he_ is not suspicious, his son will be and I'm sure will ask questions about his father's soon-to-be-new boon companion.”

“And your point?” asked Tristan

“In order to play my role convincingly, it must not be known that we are associates. Our usual wont is to share lodgings but I suggest we change our habits this time and rent rooms not just in a smaller, less well-known inn but lodge in separate rooms in several locations. It will make our movements less predictable and harder to watch.”

“I see,” said Tristan thoughtfully. “But Jaheira and I have made arrangements for us all at the _Iron Rose Inn._  So where do you propose we do now?”

“ _I_ propose to stay at the _Iron Rose Inn_ ,” he replied. “I'm sure the Sigil Troupe’s trunks have arrived by now and I've no wish to haul them through the streets to another location. However, in answer to the pressing question I see in your eyes, I recall your mentioning there were several inns nearby. The _Iron Rose_ therefore is not only one. So I suggest the group split up – in pairs, in singles, it matters not as long as we’re close enough to communicate but not all together.

She looked at him knowingly, “I see.”

He smiled engagingly at her, “Tis truly in the interests of the group, my Raven as it will go a long way towards making us less conspicuous…as you've suggested. We will be far enough apart to develop separate identities yet close enough to conveniently exchange information.” 

Jen glanced at Anomen who seemed to be listening with interest to Haer’Dalis’s suggestion. She raised an eyebrow, grinning to herself. Feeling her eyes upon him, he blushed slightly and looked down, carefully studying his bracers.

“I'll think about it,” Tristan said, “and let you know when we regroup shortly.”

“Tis all I ask,” Haer'Dalis replied smiling.

As they left to find their own way to the inn, Jen glanced at Haery, “Just a _little_ obvious, don't you think?”

He gave her an innocent look, “You wound me, my dear. I kept to the truth and spoke nothing but facts.”

“In your own underhanded way.” She laughed and shook her head admonishingly, “I'm sure your motives are _quite_ pure. And you made an _excellent_ case for separating the group. Anomen appeared much struck by the possibilities. Now as for your _own_ devious intentions…you still have to persuade _me_.”

He took her hand and raised it to his lips, “’Twill be my pleasure.” 

They continued their journey through the cobbled streets. The air was felt thick, almost sticky and on more than one occasion Jen felt her nose wrinkling involuntarily as they passed a particularly potent sewer or abandoned doorway. 

They walked for several minutes through crowded neighborhoods before finally entering a green and pleasant district whose modest streets were lined with small but tidy cottages. As they neared the district’s center, the streets joined together, forming a broad ring around which shops and other businesses were located.  They entered the circle and turned left. A few minutes later they came to a building bearing an elaborately carved wooden sign with the words “ _Iron Rose Inn_ ” joining Keldorn and Jaheira who were already waiting at the entrance.  Before long Anomen and Tristan also arrived.

“Ah,” said Jaheira once everyone was assembled. “We're all here. Shall we go inside rather than loiter in the streets drawing attention to ourselves?”

Tristan cleared her throat, looking slightly embarrassed. “Uh…before we go in, I've....” She swallowed and the rest of the group looked at her expectantly.

“I've been thinking further about our plan,” she continued in a stronger voice, “and it occurs to me that Nanny Bea was right. We're a _very_ noticeable group. I've been thinking of ways we could be less visible and thought that, uh, perhaps we shouldn't all stay in the same place just this once. It wouldn't be difficult – there are lots of inns in Athkatla. In fact, there are two others quite nearby.”

Keldorn and Jaheira looked surprised. “But child…” Jaheira began.

“It wouldn’t be proper….” Keldorn said simultaneously.

“I've given it a lot of thought,” Tristan broke in. “I’m sure the Order wouldn’t consider this strictly proper, but then again, neither is much of what we do.  However, it _is_ practical. Isaea will be watching and we need to be sure those of us who'll be getting better acquainted with the Roenalls can pass scrutiny. Even though I'm reluctant to separate the group, I have to agree that at least this time we need to do so.”

“I see,” Jaheira said slowly, “But I think it's pretty well-known that we _are_ associates. In fact, isn't that why Jen came back to help us? She's not traveled with us and will be less easily recognized.”

“Well, that's true, but I think we _all_ need to become less conspicuous. I couldn't help but notice the stares as our party left the _Five Flagons_ just a short time ago. We're staying in a new and more modest area of town and that gives us fresh opportunities. You _know_ that strangers can either stand out or blend in and I'd like do the latter as much as possible. Three or four sets of strangers staying at separate inns will draw far less attention than a large, well-armed party staying at one. As for meetings, we can choose a place and gather only after dark. I say that Haer'Dalis and Jen can stay here and the rest of us will go elsewhere.”

Jaheira sighed. “Alright child, lead me to the next inn and book our room.”

“Actually Jaheira, I won't be going with you.” Tristan swallowed. “Anomen and I are going to _The King's Cottage._ You can either stay here or go to the _Two Suns_ with Keldorn. It makes the most sense,” she added hastily, “for Anomen and I are going to investigate Isaea's business ventures while you and Keldorn are researching the handfasting document and the best means to void it.”

Jaheira's surprised expression changed to a more knowing look. “Yes, your argument does make sense,” she said, her voice carefully neutral. “Although I could wish it were not so glib.”

Tristan's face became rather pink. “Tis not what you think, Jaheira…” she began.

“Is it not? Then what is it? Oh, I'm not scolding you, child. There is some sense to what you say.  I'm just questioning your motives. “

Keldorn stepped forward.  “I cannot sanction this..., “ he began.

“Keldorn, I understand your concern about appearance but Anomen travelled with me for several weeks before you joined us,” Tristan broke in. Their eyes locked for several minutes until finally Keldorn turned away, his mouth twisting unhappily downwards.

“Alright,” he said heavily. “I still don’t like it, but I will accept your authority for now.” He glanced sternly at Anomen for a moment and then subsided.

Jen suppressed the urge to laugh as she listened to the exchange. “You certainly put a few ideas in _her_ head,” she murmured into Haer'Dalis's ear, glancing meaningfully towards Tristan. “I hope Anomen thanks you.” He nodded, a look of unholy amusement flitting across his face.

“If we've settled the question of lodging, I'll now leave you for I must have time to prepare for my next role,” he said to the others. With that, he took Jen's hand and walked into the _Iron Rose Inn_ leaving the rest of the party to gather their packs and head off down the street.


	17. Of Plans and Panopoly

A short time later, Jen sat alone in her room sorting through a collection of costumes and shoes culled from the trunks Haer’Dalis had brought over from the _Five Flagons._ The morning had been relatively cool but now, as the day wore on, her room on an upper floor of the inn began to feel quite hot and stuffy. Hoping for a breeze, she went to the window and flung it open but only sunlight and warm, moist air poured in. _What I wouldn’t give for air conditioning!_

A knock at the door drew her away from the window and she found Aoife standing in the hallway, a large, bulky parcel in her arms. “What are you doing here?” she asked the child.

“Mother is running errands for Gran.  We saw you arrive and I wanted to visit.  We don’t live far from here and I hoped you wouldn’t mind if she dropped me off,” Aoife replied.

Jen smiled at her, “Of course not.” She opened the package and found that Nanny Bea had forwarded all her worldly goods, including the clothes she had been wearing the day she came through the portal into Faerun. Although she was glad to have her things she didn't foresee much need for hiking pants and boots – at least in the immediate future.

“Thanks kiddo,” she said to Aoife. “Have a seat while I put this stuff away.” Aoife immediately went over and plunked herself down on the soft featherbed where she remained, bouncing gently up and down as she watched Jen begin to hang and fold the various garments. Jen worked quickly, placing her clothes in the room's small closet and chest of drawers. Finishing the task, she wiped her hands on her tunic and turned, “Well that's done!”

“Good! Then let's go!” replied Aoife. “It's awful hot in here and 'sides, Mother wants to see you.” She bounced up and down a couple more times before flopping onto her back. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot!  Gran and Mother say you need to start wearing skirts!” She sat up and looked at Jen, “Do you even have any?”

“I do,” Jen replied. Sighing, she went to the closet and pulled out one of the two dresses that Nanny had insisted on purchasing for her.  She donned it quickly and then found a pair of shoes that didn’t clash too dreadfully with the dress’s teal and turquoise motif.  After a quick glance in the mirror, she turned to Aoife, “Ready?”

The girl nodded and obligingly slid off the bed, following Jen out of the room. As they exited onto the street, a wave of heat enveloped them causing Jen to wish fervently that she was wearing a short skirt instead of the long one considered more appropriate for Athkatlan social interactions. The thinly soled, light shoes considered suitable ladies' wear provided little protection for her feet and she found herself scanning the street for shady spots to step in and avoid the discomfort of walking on the hot cobblestones.

Fortunately, Aoife's home truly wasn’t far away and they arrived at their destination in short order to find her mother waiting for them. Lila clearly wanted to talk with Jen for no sooner had they entered the house than she suggested Aoife go into the garden to play.

“But Mooother…it's too hot to play outside,” Aoife whined. “Let me stay with you and Jen.”

Lila shook her head, “Go play in the basement with your brother then. It's nice and cool there.” She waved towards a door at the end of the hallway. “Go on, now! I need to talk with Jen…alone.”

Jen followed Lila into a small parlor on the north side of the house and gratefully accepted the glass of cold juice offered to her. She hoped Nanny Bea had had time to inform her daughter that she’d offered her aid in helping Tristan’s group find Nalia.  Although Jen liked Lila and they had exchanged a few confidences as they had gotten acquainted over the last month, she found herself reluctant to broach the subject on her own.   _Probably because I’m uncomfortable with my own part in it._ The two women sat quietly for a few moments, awkwardly sipping their drinks until Lila finally broke the silence, “I talked with Mother today and she told me about Nalia. She thinks that Isaea is keeping Nalia hidden somewhere.”

“It sure looks that way,” Jen agreed. “Haery and Tristan looked all over Athkatla but Nalia's disappeared without a trace.” She took a deep breath. “Your mother suggested you might be able to help us actually. She thought you might have a connection to the Roenall's or at least to some part of their circle. You wouldn't happen to be acquainted with them would you?” She looked hopefully at the other woman.

“I have a good friend whose mother is close to Lady Roenall.” said Lila quietly. “She might be able to help you. I've heard that Lady Roenall has been away – visiting relatives, I think.” She shook her head disapprovingly. “I must tell you that Nalia's behavior of late - her travels with your friends in particular, is considered _quite_ odd. I hear Isaea Roenall has been putting it about that she is _completely_ overset by her father's death and as a result, has allowed them to take advantage of her. But this could actually work to your advantage for I suspect that Lady Roenall will want to ensure Nalia's social rehabilitation before she marries her off to Isaea with all due ceremony.”

“Seems to me that given Nalia's resistance, Lady Roenall would be better served having a quick, quiet ceremony followed by the reintroduction of her new daughter-in-law into society,” remarked Jen. “Personally I hope to prevent that, but it would seem to be a logical course of action for Lady Roenall to take. On the other hand, if Nalia's reputation is so badly damaged why wouldn't the Roenalls just sever all ties?”

“Nalia and Isaea are engaged. Therefore, since the death of her father, the Roenalls have become her guardians and are responsible for her. This puts them in a rather awkward position for they are accountable for her actions no matter what the outcome. Of course, they want to salvage what they can from the situation and use it to their advantage. I'm sure Lady Roenall will have a plan. After all, she's had a lot of practice.” Lila picked up a fan from a small nearby table and began to wave it gently to and fro, stirring the thick air into motion.

Noting Jen's look of surprise, Lila added, “The Roenall's fortunes have suffered considerably over the last few years. Lord Roenall has lost a lot of the family's wealth due to his gaming excesses _and_ 'tis rumored, his women. Lady Roenall has become very sensitive to the slightest breath of scandal and however much they may want or need Nalia's fortune, she'll want to be sure it's come by with at least the appearance of honor. A hasty marriage, particularly given Nalia's current state, would quickly become food for gossip.”

“How so?” asked Jen.

Lila drew a deep breath. “Well,” she said quietly, “As I said, I’ve heard several rather well-placed people say that your friends are taking advantage of Nalia.  So, what do you think they would say if she suddenly married the son of her guardian? I know about the handfasting, but it hasn't yet been a year since the ceremony. The traditional period is a year and a day. Should Isaea and Nalia be married immediately, particularly given Lord Roenall's financial situation, I'm sure it wouldn't take long for the local gossips to suggest that perhaps the hasty marriage wasn't so much a result of the groom's eagerness for the bride as it was for the bride's fortune.” Lila paused again, seeing the look of disgust on Jen's face.

“But why force her into marriage? I mean, why not just quietly _embezzle_ the funds from her if they're so desperate?”

Lila said, “Lord Roenall's been borrowing a lot of money lately and it's rumored that the notes is about to become due. If he suddenly began to pay his debts, the most obvious source of funds would be the De Arnise fortune and Nalia would then have recourse to have the guardianship and even the handfasting examined and possibly revoked. However, I suspect just the promise of incipient wealth will buy him some time.”

Jen frowned as she puzzled over Lila’s last words and finally shook her head. “That still doesn't make sense. Waiting for your son to marry a wealthy woman so you can pay off your debts, I mean. What if she ran away? What if she had died trying to free her home? It seems like a rather risky proposition to me.” 

“It _is_ risky,” replied Lila, shrugging, “but it's also one of the few legal and honorable ways that the Roenalls can increase their fortune. Their money is inherited– it's been a long time since they were directly involved in trade. In their minds, I'm sure they think there's no more reasonable way increase their wealth than by the joining of two family fortunes, particularly when the families in question have been friends for years.”

Jen shuddered. _I have to agree with Tristan – how absolutely barbaric!_ Aloud she said, “So, tell me about Lord Roenall's gaming habits. Where does he play?”

“I've heard of a new establishment – a very exclusive one where members must post a bond of 10,000 gold as surety against potential losses in order to join. I don't have a name, but have heard it is where Lord Roenall has suffered his most recent setbacks.”

Jen though of Haer'Dalis and flinched. _What has Nanny Bea gotten him into?_ Looking at Lila she said, “What an _awful_ family!”

“Quite,” agreed Lila with a grim look on her pretty face. She looked at Jen. “You're probably wondering why I'm willing to help.”

Jen nodded feeling a bit surprised that Lila had read her so accurately.

“The Roenalls have always made it clear that they consider themselves to be better than most. When I first married and came to Athkatla, they remembered me from the days when my mother cared for Nalia. My husband is a merchant whose family has some ties to the nobility. When I first entered Althkatlan society, Lord Roenall made…inappropriate overtures towards me.”  Her face reddened, her voice becoming hard and angry.  “He thought of me as a peasant who should be grateful for his ‘recognition.’ He was incensed when I rejected him and his revenge was to spread rumors that my morals are lax and that my husband had married beneath himself.”

Jen grimaced. “That’s awful, Lila!  Well, then our revenge shall be yours as well.” She ran her hand through her hair as she pondered. Finally she said, “Ok, so you think Lady Roenall will bring Nalia back out into society. What do you propose we do?”

Lila looked at her, “I suppose you could enter Athkalan society. There might be a way to gain invitations to some of the same parties.  Still, it would be pretty difficult to whisk Nalia out from under her future mama-in-law's nose.” She giggled, “The woman's a basilisk – a glance can turn you to stone. It might almost be easier to locate Lord Roenall's fabled hideaway. At least you'd be able to blackmail him once you found it.”

Jen giggled in return, “A basilisk, eh? Good thing I found a few of those Stone to Flesh potions when I was packing up Nalia’s things at the _Five Flagons_! But I wouldn't have to _rescue_ Nalia, at least not immediately. If one of us could make contact with her; convince her to play along with the Roenalls for a short time until everything is in place to free her it might be easier in the long run.  I know the current plan is a blackmail scheme but I bet if the Roenalls find her cooperative, they'll be less watchful and that will make things easier.  Besides, it’s always good to have a Plan B.” A thought struck her and she said, “You just mentioned something about Lord Roenall's living arrangements. He doesn't live with his family in the Government district?”

“Well, that's the _official_ residence, but Lord Roenall supposedly has a second house somewhere in Athkatla where he can take his pleasures well hidden from his loving wife.”

“Hmmm…Haery searched the Roenall house in the Government District and found no sign of Nalia. I wonder…yes, I wonder….” She shook her head. “Never mind. If this supposed hideaway is the subject of common gossip, then it probably doesn't exist, at least anymore. I'm sure his wife would have made sure of that once she discovered its existence.” She stared into the garden in frustration.

Lila got up and came to stand next to her. “But that's just it, you see. Because it is common gossip, it's become a joke. _Lord Roenall's lovenest._ No one believes he could pull off such a thing – especially not after they meet his wife; which is precisely why it's probably true.”

Jen looked up, a spark of hope lighting her eyes, “Do you have any idea where it might be?”

Lila shook her head.

“Hmmmm…it might be worth investigating. Isaea could be keeping Nalia there right under our very noses.” Jen said thoughtfully. “I'll tell Tristan about it tonight.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jen returned to the _Iron Rose Inn_ as the sun was going down. She was eager to share her news with Haer'Dalis and began searching for him immediately on her return, beginning with his room, followed by a quick look into both the inn's common room and private parlor. He was not to be found nor could the innkeeper remember seeing him that afternoon. Feeling somewhat annoyed, she decided that her best recourse would be to go to her room – a fortuitous idea, for a glance out the window showed her Haer'Dalis's exact location - a spot in the inn's garden well hidden from view except from above. She slipped back into her light shoes and headed out to join him.

He looked up at her approach with a smile. “A profitable day, Jen?”

Smiling, she seated herself next to him on the shady bench and he put out a hand to draw her closer. “I'd say so.” She went on to tell him of her conversation with Lila including her news about the gaming club and Lord Roenall's secret hideaway, ending with, “I'm looking forward to telling the others. Do know when we're to meet?”

“Yes,” he replied, “there's public garden a short distance from here. Tristan sent word to meet her there once it's dark.”

“Then we don't much time.”

“True,” he said, but made no move to get up. Instead, he drew her into his arms, allowing his hands to rove across her back as he held her. _Such strong hands,_ she thought also noticing as she did so that he was dressed in the jacket and pants favored by nobles. _He looks pretty good in them too._ She settled closer, enjoying the feel of him through the light clothes and suddenly not minding the warmth of the evening.  Looking up, she discreetly scanned his face.

“What's wrong?”

He looked mildly surprised, “Why do you ask?”

“You seem unusually silent, particularly given my news.”

“Perhaps I simply want to enjoy a few quiet moments alone with you my Kestrel before we embark on our assigned tasks.” He continued to hold her close, his fingers making small circles as they moved down her spine.

 _Well,_ she thought, _he'll talk when he's ready._ She was more than willing to stay where she was for the moment. She felt his lips begin to explore her neck – something she rather enjoyed - and she began nibbling on his delicately furled ear in return. It was a pleasant enough distraction and she gave herself over to it. Evening shadows fell softly around them as their caresses began to take on more serious overtones. The apparent privacy of the bench was seductive, but a loud noise from the street gave them a sharp reminder of public proximity and with a soft exhalation of disappointment, they drew apart. Feeling mildly embarrassed, Jen looked fleetingly towards the inn, fervently hoping that the rest of the inn's guests weren't plastered to the windows of the inn's upper floor rooms watching their display of affection.

Catching her breath, she glanced at Haer'Dalis, and seeing that he had recovered as well, said with a wink, “…and you were saying?”

He grinned appreciatively, “…that I much enjoy your company.” His look turned serious, “I've been thinking…”

“A dangerous thing to do, Haery,” Jen interjected. She put her hands over her mouth in penance for the interruption, “…do go on.”

“I won't be going with you to meet Tristan and the others as I have an appointment with a man for whom I've performed some service in the past. He knows Farrington Roenall well and has offered to introduce me to him tonight.” He stopped as a look of dismay crossed her face. “I've agreed to play the part Jen and I _must_ play it well if we're to succeed in rescuing Nalia.”

“I understand,” she said nodding slowly. “But can you trust this man not to tell Lord Roenall who you really are?"

“My hope is that he'll tell him everything he knows of me. However, since my acquaintance with him is not as Haer'Dalis, I feel the matter is quite safe.”  He seemed unconcerned by the possibility of betrayal as he leaned back, moving his arm across the top of the bench and around her shoulders.

“Well, I guess this means you won't be around much, will you?” she asked.

He nodded his head in agreement.

“I'll miss you, but I guess we all have things to do if we're going to find Nalia,” she said resignedly. She drew a breath and tried to lighten her tone as she asked, “So tell me, have you a name for your character?”

“Yes,” he replied, “Aidan D'Asturia.”

“And your story?”

He grinned. “The usual one – scion of a wealthy but distant family who has escaped his leash and taken to a life of pleasure - for as long as his money holds out, at least.  He's always looking for ways to increase his wealth to avoid returning to the fold and has found gaming of great benefit to him. He's eager to play and willing to spend freely.”

She laughed, “They'll think you're an escaped alright, although not necessarily from your loving family.”

He stood up, pulling her along with him. “Let's go. I must prepare for I've a long night ahead of me. And you’ll need to go meet Tristan shortly.”

She stepped in front of him, laying her hand against his cheek as she said, “Please be careful. If you're caught, the Roenalls will probably kill you. I don't want to lose you just yet, Haery.” She added ruefully, “As if any of us are exercising caution. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to sound like your mother.”

“Not for a moment!” replied Haer'Dalis, his eyes gleaming with amusement, “For I doubt such a thought would ever cross _my_ mother's mind much less her lips. But I'll take your caution to heart, my love for I agree this is a dangerous business.”

 


	18. Hunting

Later that evening Jen met Tristan and the others in the quiet little park a few streets away from the _Iron Rose_ where they exchanged information, including her news regarding Lord Roenall's secret house. Although she urged otherwise, none of the others felt inclined to search for it and Anomen even went so far as to say in a somewhat condescending manner, “My dear Jen, it's undoubtedly the best kept secret in all Athkatla! Assuming it exists of course. But surely you don't think _we_ could find it if his own wife has not been able to do so for all these years!”

“Maybe I have more faith in our abilities than you do!” she snapped back and he had the grace to look mildly abashed.

“Nonetheless, “ he insisted, “I think sticking with the original plan would be a better use of our time than haring around Athkatla trying to find a house that, in all likelihood, doesn't exist.”

Jen bit her lip and looked at the ground. As much as she hated to admit it, Anomen was probably right. She was a bit out of her league while he had _far_ more experience in Athkatlan search and rescue.  She also knew that she _had_ promised along with the others, not to do anything that might tip their hand. _However,_ she thought rebelliously, _immediate action is starting to sound like a much better idea than sitting around sipping tea. And if we were actively searching I might not have to go on with this charade. __Although this was certainly part of Nanny’s plan and arranged with Lila, Jen knew she wasn’t much of an actress; a truth which left her feeling quite anxious about her proposed entrance into polite Athkatlan society._

As if sensing Jen's frustration, Tristan said, “Why don't you come with me tomorrow? I'm going to visit a friend who can help us gather some of the “evidence” we'll need to blackmail the Roenalls.”

Aware that in this company, she was indeed the odd person out, Jen was nonetheless grateful for Tristan’s attempt to include her so she smiled pleasantly saying, “I'd like that.” She glanced at Anomen, trying to gauge his reaction to the invitation but couldn’t tell whether or not he minded since his face bore its usual, mildly annoyed expression which told her nothing.  “But perhaps I'd be intruding?” 

Tristan shook her head. “Anomen doesn't enjoy mingling with the dregs of society the way I do - or so he says.”

Anomen opened and shut his mouth a couple of times without saying anything and finally looked away. Jen saw Tristan's lips tighten. The pair definitely seemed unhappy with each other at the moment and she wondered what could possibly have gone wrong between them, particularly given their obvious attunement earlier in the day. 

Turning to Tristan she said, “I'll be happy to go with you. Why don't you come and get me after breakfast -- I'll be ready.” An enormous yawn caught her unawares and soon she excused herself from the group and returned to the _Iron Rose Inn._ _Upon arrival, she went straight up to her room and was soon fast asleep._

Morning came far too early but the warm sunlight dancing across Jen's face and pushing its way under her eyelids could not be ignored. Yawning sleepily, she tossed back the covers, willing herself to swing her feet to the floor and make her way across the room to the small basin and pitcher of tepid water. She proceeded to splash her face and soon felt far more alert. Finally awake, she dressed quickly, again wearing one of the hated dresses, and headed downstairs to await Tristan.

The inn's common room was busy, but Jen somehow managed to find a spot. A serving woman hurried by, dumping a pot of tea onto the table as she passed. Jen poured herself a cup, wishing it were coffee instead. Unfortunately, coffee seemed to be a luxury item in Amn for she rarely saw it offered and when available, it was quite expensive. She sighed reminiscently, thinking longingly of her former morning stops at her former coffeehouse haunt _._

 _Funny how life works,_ she thought. _I used to hate getting up and going to work every day – I always fantasized about disappearing into nowhere – being picked up by a spaceship or stepping through a door into another world. Now I've done it and I find myself missing my morning routine. Gotta be careful what you wish for, I guess._ A man walked past her, his bearing bringing Haer'Dalis to mind and smiling to herself she thought, _Yes, one must be_ ** _very_** _careful when wishing!_

Breakfast arrived - a welcome distraction - and she busied herself with hot bread, butter, honey and more tea, keeping one eye on the door as she ate. Her vigilance was soon rewarded for she spotted Tristan immediately when she entered the room. Stuffing a last bite into her mouth, Jen rose from the chair. “Good morning! I'm glad to see you – I've been sitting here twitching like a worm on a fishhook!

Tristan smiled, returning her greeting. They soon left the _Iron Rose_ , making their way through the crowded streets. Tristan walked briskly, eyes straight ahead. She was quiet and Jen noticed she’d said nothing after her initial greeting; not even to give Jen an idea of their destination. Finally, Jen decided to take matters into her own hands. “Tristan?”

“Yes?”  Tristan looked around.

Jen lengthened her stride in an effort to match Tristan’s pace.  “Where are we going so quickly? You mentioned a friend…?”

“Yes. We're going to look for a man who traveled with me recently. He said he'd be staying at the _Copper Coronet_.”

They were both silent for a moment and then Jen said, “Um…I'm not trying to pry or anything, but I'm wondering why Anomen didn’t join us today. I mean, our destination isn't exactly one of the safest places in the city.” Tristan shoulders twitched slightly but she didn’t reply.

“Although you're well able to take care of yourself,” Jen added hastily. “But I would have thought you'd _want_ Anomen with us – there's more safety in numbers after all.”

Tristan sighed gloomily. “True, but Anomen's not exactly the best of company right now. In fact, I'd say he's very unhappy at the moment.”

“I see. And his unhappiness is somehow focused on you?”

Tristan stopped, looking at Jen through narrowed eyes, then closed them briefly as if in pain. Jen shook her head, feeling mildly embarrassed. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry. We don’t really know each other all that well after all. It's just that the two of you seemed so happy together yesterday morning and yet seem to be barely speaking now. And even though we haven’t known each other long, I’ve noticed he always seems to protest your going off alone.”

Tristan shrugged, “I'm not alone. You're with me. But I do understand what you're asking.” She paused for a moment and Jen could see she was struggling with herself.

“You don’t have to say anything, _really_.  It was impolite of me to ask,” Jen found herself flushing, embarrassed at her own nosiness.

Tristan sighed. “It’s ok.  It’s just that, well, Anomen's just been very – unpredictable lately. One minute he's full of compliments and the next he's angry – with himself and anyone else within range. We've just hit an angry patch and he's been quite vocal in expressing his feelings. He wants everything to look and to be ‘just _so_ ’ – mostly because he's afraid of how it will appear to his Order.” She sighed, “He wants so desperately to be accepted and sees everything as a barrier! Right now, he's objecting to my plan to recruit a thief for our party for fear the Order will learn of it and disapprove. We _need_ one you know -- we've been suffering without Nalia’s lock picking abilities. But he has a ridiculous prejudice against thieves and against my…friend - in particular.”

“Why is that? I mean why didn't Nalia's activities bother him?”

“Nalia is a noble and although I hate to say it, I suspect that helps Anomen overlook the less desirable aspects of her profession.”

 _Just as his feelings for you allow him to close his eyes to your heritage, whatever it may be, but not Haery's,_ Jen thought.

“Don't worry,” Tristan continued, “Anomen will get over it. And I might also.”  She grinned somewhat cheerlessly. “Assuming he apologizes for some of things he said to me last night, of course.”

Jen nodded, “Of course.” They said nothing more as they passed through the gate leading into the slums but she noted that the discussion seemed to have cheered Tristan for she continued to chat amiably as she walked beside Jen.

They soon entered the large main room of the _Copper Coronet_. Tristan looked around clearly searching for someone and finally smiling at a moderately dark-skinned man standing near a far wall. They crossed the floor and headed towards him. As they drew closer, Jen saw noticed his wiry black hair and almond eyes.  _He looks almost Asian._ Tristan, noting her somewhat surprised stare said, “Yoshimo’s a Kara-Turan.”  The man looked up as they approached and Jen saw his expression change from boredom to pleasure as he realized who was coming towards him.

“It is good to see you, my friend. What brings you here?” he asked Tristan.

Grinning broadly at him, she replied, “You do. I was hoping the Great Yoshimo might be willing to do some work for me.”

“Ah…so you've come to seek my help in finding young Nalia?”

“Nalia!? What makes you think that?”

“I've heard rumors that she is no longer with your party. Taken from under your very nose by Isaea Roenall, or so I'm told. But perhaps you have the situation under control?”

“Ah, Yoshimo, always so…perceptive. Will you help me?”

“I would be honored. But first, introduce me to your lovely companion.” He looked towards Jen as he spoke.

Tristan made the introduction and went on to tell him about Nalia's disappearance and her own investigation of the rumors regarding Roenall involvement with the slave trade and smuggling. Jen said nothing, but listened to their conversation, watching Yoshimo carefully. He was a handsome man in a rather battered sort of way and seemed friendly enough, but for all his easy words she sensed a certain wariness about him that went beyond professional demeanor. She let her eyes follow his movements. _He reminds me of a trapped animal. Does Tristan see it too?_

Her mind wandered and she refocused on the conversation with an effort just in time to hear Tristan say, “We need solid evidence of Isaea's activities and we’ve uncovered information which suggests he keeps a journal or an account book which might well serve the purpose.  I’d hoped you might be willing to help us search for it.”

“My help is yours, but surely you have a better use for me than simple thievery. My skills as you _know_ , are in finding, ah…missing persons.”  He crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall, his body and face indicating complete indifference.

“I know. But I need your _other_ skills. Since Nalia's no longer with me, I hoped you might help, but if you're not interested, I'm sure there are others.”  Tristan shrugged unconcernedly and turned as if to leave.

“Wait! I will do it for _you,_ Tristan,” he replied hastily, pushing himself upright.  “Although I'd appreciate your keeping this between us. Don't want to ruin my reputation as a bounty hunter.”

She grinned at him and then looked thoughtful. “I really _would_ like to locate Nalia, just to know she's alive and well, but I can't just jump in and rescue her. I've made a promise, Yoshimo and I can't break it.”

“To whom? No, it doesn't matter. But **_I_** haven't promised anyone anything. Let me find the girl and free her for you.”  He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms.

Shaking her head, Tristan replied, “No. I can't let you do that. While I _hate_ what the Roenalls have done, I've had it pounded into my head that legally they're in the right. Besides we _do_ have a plan.”

“Of course.”  A look of resignation came over his face but he said nothing further.

Tristan and Jen left the _Copper Coronet_ soon afterwards, walking more slowly this time and staying in the shade as much as possible. Their next destination was the Temple district as Tristan hoped to catch up with Keldorn and Jaheira. Following Nanny's recommendation and Keldorn's own endorsement, they had gone to the Temple Court where legal documents related to marriage were both prepared and retained in an attempt to have a document drawn up to legally terminate Nalia's handfasting. The catch was of course, getting the Roenalls to sign it, but that was to be Haer'Dalis's job.

They walked for some time. The midday heat was becoming oppressive and the pair stopped more than once to cool off. As they drew near the Temple District, their path drew them into a neighborhood of large homes hidden behind high stone and iron fences. Jen caught glimpses of well-manicured lawns and flowerbeds through gaps in the iron bars.

By mutual consent, they stopped in a shady spot beneath the branches of a large mulberry tree and looked out at the street. Jen noticed that there seemed to be very little foot traffic. Instead, the streets were filled with a variety of vehicles ranging from merchants' delivery carts to the carriages of Athkatla's wealthier citizens. A large black carriage caught her eye as it passed them. Most conveyances were open, in deference to both fashion as well as the heat, however, this one was fully enclosed, and its windows covered with heavy fabric as if to ensure privacy although one curtain had been drawn back slightly to allow airflow. As the carriage passed them, Tristan looked carefully at the driver and groom, then exclaimed, “That's Roenall livery!”

The two women looked at each other, and then scrambled to their feet following the carriage as it rolled slowly down the street.

“Gods, I hope that wasn’t Isaea and that he didn’t see us!  Or perhaps it's Isaea's mother returning home,” said Jen.

“Could be, but the Roenall estate is in the Government District – that's east of here.” Tristan looked around, squinting as she looked after the slow-moving coach.

“Then perhaps, it's our clue to Lord Farrington’s secret hideaway. Could you see anyone inside?”

“No,” replied Tristan, “I couldn't see anyone. But I don't think they're going very far. The vehicle didn't have any luggage strapped to the back.”

They tried to maintain a careful distance while keeping the carriage in sight as it traveled towards the northwestern corner of Athkatla. They soon found themselves following it through a series of narrow winding streets lined with modest houses that looked like they had been designed with a cookie cutter. _They sure look like middle class tract homes,_ Jen thought. The iron and stone fences of the previous neighborhood gave way to simple hedges that served as both a barrier to street noise as well as a screen from curious eyes.

Jen drew in a deep breath and noticed the air had become slightly cooler. Tristan noticed it also. “We're near the water.”

“How do you know? Do you have any idea where we are?” 

“Look at the birds,” Tristan replied, pointing to a couple of circling seagulls. “As for where we are, while I've never been out here before I'm pretty sure we're west of the Temple District.”

She stopped suddenly as the carriage lurched around a sharp corner. They watched as the carriage proceeded down a narrow lane to a cluster of houses. They crept after it only to find the lane ending abruptly in a cul-de-sac. Tristan reacted by grabbing Jen's arm and propelling her to a sheltered spot a short distance away. Although they were still on the street, the bushes served as a screen, allowing them to view the carriage without being seen by those within. As they watched, a man got out and Tristan began to smile broadly.

“Look,” she said,”It _is_ Isaea! And he's going inside. We may be on to something!”


	19. Fox and Hound

Nalia lay on the bed, tapping her toes against the wall. She had no idea of the time although the quality of the darkness surrounding her had softened slightly, leading her to assume it was nearly daylight once again. She’d found the darkness disorienting although she was sure that at least a couple of nights had passed based upon the regular, slow fluctuations in the room’s light over the course of her captivity. 

Her stomach growled noisily and she realized she was quite hungry.  At first meals had been delivered regularly but the last meal she’d received– stewed apples, meat, cheese and bread –had been delivered several hours before and it had been some time since anyone had come to check on her. She listened carefully, hearing nothing, not even normal household noises. If it were morning, the house should be stirring.  Instead, it was strangely silent and seemed devoid of life.  

Eventually she fell back asleep and when she awakened again, it was to a room now filled with dim gray light. _It must be daytime. _ She cocked her head, listening carefully, but house remained spookily silent.  It was hard to really believe that she'd been left alone, but she finally decided to put it to the test.  She rolled off the bed and made her way to the door.  The sounds of her attempt to gain attention echoed in the stillness but no one came to check on her.  She reached up to scratch her head. _I wonder if my spells will work._ Her hands moved but nothing happened, letting her know that that the restraints on her magical abilities were still in place.  

Finally, she made her way back to the bed and flung herself down. The silence was becoming frightening.   _Is anyone trying to find me? I hope so. Right now, I’d even welcome Isaea._ _Assuming he did reappear, s_ he knew he’d free her quickly enough if she agreed to his terms although she fervently hoped she would not have to do so.   _I can’t get out; there’s no lock to pick and my magic isn’t working anyway_. Frustrated, she thumped her feet against the mattress.   _I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s even managed to get my license to practice magic revoked,_ she thought gloomily.

Her mind went back to the remarks he had made about her behavior. It was true that according to societal conventions, she was behaving strangely, but her time at the _Copper Coronet_ and with Tristan's party had given her a glimpse of what it mean to do the right thing regardless of whether it was according to prescribed rules. _Keldorn’s been so bound up in the rules that he’s put the Order first and that nearly cost him his wife_ _and poor Anomen seems to feel that the slightest deviation from doing what's “proper” makes him a bad person - unworthy of being a knight. I don't want to live like that._  

Her thoughts ran on. _Now Tristan and Jaheira don't seem to be bothered by rules. They just do what they think is the right thing and don't worry much about what others think. I really like that. I don't want to go back to being proper little Nalia, always wearing the right clothes and being seen with the ‘right’ people._ She turned over onto her side and stared blindly into the darkness. _I hope they find me soon._  

Suddenly she heard the clatter of a carriage coming towards the house.  She stiffened as hope surged through her. _Isaea?_  The carriage stopped and she heard the sounds of someone stepping out. This was soon followed by the sound of feet climbing the stairs towards her room.  She sat up, running her fingers through her hair and smoothing her skirts in an attempt at grooming. It was impossible really, given the lack of proper bathing facilities or a change of clothes. A minute later, the door swung open and Isaea strode into the room. He wrinkled his nose at the chamberpot and turned, gesturing sharply at one of the guards who quickly removed the offending object. 

Isaea looked Nalia over carefully, noting her rumpled hair and clothing as well as the apprehension in her eyes. “I see your friends haven't rescued you yet,” he said, grinning derisively. “Perhaps they've realized the futility of their position.” 

Angry color rose in her checks.  “They'll come,” she replied stoutly. She didn't understand it, but something about Isaea _always_ brought out the worst in her and she found herself glaring fiercely at him. 

“If you insist,” he replied mockingly. “But I should tell you they've left the _Five Flagons_ and quite possibly, Athkatla itself, without making any effort to find you. What do you say to _that,_ my fine lady?” 

Nalia’s found her fear of abandonment vanishing under the heat of anger.  “I would say, Isaea, that if you're trying to make an impression, you're succeeding,” she replied sharply, “although I'm not sure it's _really_ the one you _want_ to make. I can't _tell_ how much I've enjoyed being locked in this smelly little room without food or water and forced to listen as you mock and threaten me. Really, if _this_ is your idea of how to win a girl's heart, then I must tell you that your methods fall _quite_ short of the usual standards!” 

“Had you behaved in a more ladylike manner, I would not have been forced to keep you this way. And while you _might_ prefer that I emulate the gallantries of that popinjay actor with whom you've been traveling, I feel that such niceties must be _earned._ I'll not pay court to a woman who defies me. However, enough of this! I didn't come to fight with you, but to give you some news.” She looked at him stonily and he stared back at her spitefully.   

“Mother has returned to Athkatla. I've brought the carriage and will be taking you to her shortly. Oh, but don't expect that your friends will find it any easier to rescue you from _her_ than they have from _me_!” 

As he finished speaking a triumphant smirk spread across his face and it took all the self-control she possessed to keep from wiping it off his face with a well-place fireball. Instead she took a deep breath and snarled, “Thank you for the news, Isaea. Now that you've had the pleasure of delivering it, why don't you just GET OUT!” 

He gave her a malicious grin, “I'd love to, my dear. I'll just go down and make sure the carriage is ready. Don't go away!” He left the room and she heard the bar thumping down across the door’s exterior followed by three pairs of feet moving down the hall. She was alone in the dark again, but with the realization that the conversation had done much to clear her mind of its earlier lethargy. She paced back and forth across the small room, full of angry energy, focusing her thoughts on how she might best deal with Lady Roenall and find a means of escape. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Lying in wait was not Jen's favorite occupation. For a while she remained quietly where she was but finally, boredom prompted her to move so she strolled casually past, stopping just past the hedge to peer back towards the carriage, She stared for so long that Tristan finally caught her by the arm and dragged her away.

“Stop it! You'll attract attention! “ 

“We need to _do_ something! Nalia's probably in there!” 

“You don't know that! Isaea could be visiting anyone. I’d prefer action myself but we promised to follow the plan.  And while I suspect you're right, I think our best bet is to continue to follow him, see where he goes and then come back to investigate when the coast is clear. Isaea hasn't seen us so he won't know we're following him until is it much too late. If he has Nalia, we'll find out where he's taking her which can only help us, right?” She grinned evilly and winked. Jen laughed and obediently followed her back to their protected spot. 

It was not much longer before they saw the front door open although in the bustle that ensued, they could not see who got into the carriage. It turned around and came back towards them. They shrank into the bushes and as it passed, they noted that the blinds were drawn tightly across all the windows this time. 

“Who do you think is inside?” Jen asked. 

“I don't know, but I'm willing to bet it was Isaea. Let's get going. Since we know where this house is, we can send someone back later to investigate. I'll probably ask Yoshimo to do it.” 

They began to follow the carriage. Fortunately, traffic impeded its progress and allowed them to keep pace. The carriage soon made its way onto a main thoroughfare where it picked up speed. The two women began to walk quickly, trying to keep the carriage in sight. Tristan was fortuitously wearing leather armor instead of her more normal plate mail and therefore was able to keep pace with Jen as they chased the vehicle. People stared as they hurried past and Jen hoped that their undignified pursuit didn't draw the attention of the carriage's occupants. 

Much to her relief, their chase soon ended as the carriage turned into the Government District.  They hurried forward and as they entered the district were pleased to see that the carriage had stopped in front of a large nearby house. Panting with heat and exhaustion, the women stopped in the shade of a large building just inside the gate. 

“Whew! I didn't think I could last much longer,” Tristan gasped. 

“Me neither,” replied Jen, fanning herself with both hands. 

They looked towards the house and as they watched, the groom jumped off the box, pulled down the steps and opened the carriage door. He then climbed onto the lower step, reaching forward with both hands to grasp something or someone. 

Nalia flew out of the carriage, almost as if she'd been pushed. Reaching the ground, she pulled her hands away from the groom, using them instead to smooth her skirts and hair. The groom remained poised, prepared to pounce should she make any move to escape. Tristan and Jen looked at each other and simultaneously started forward. Neither had any idea of what to do next, but both wanted to gain Nalia's attention. It was Jen who came to her senses first this time, grasping Tristan's arm to stop her while they were still some distance from the carriage. “Wait! What are we doing? Are we going to try to take her from Isaea in public?” 

“No,” Tristan replied slowly. “I don't think we can. And, as frustrating as it is, I think if we did try, we'd just make things worse for her like Nanny Bea said. Gods, I hate this inactivity!” 

“Well, we can at least let her know we're here. It's risky and I don't know how badly we'll screw things up if we're caught, but I'd like to let her know we haven't forgotten her.” 

Tristan pulled a mesh coif out of the pouch at her waist and covered her hair before glancing down at her leather-covered chest. The armor covered her completely, concealing her shape. “We'll pretend we're lovers and walk past with our heads together like we're whispering. We're not members of the nobility, so he'll probably just ignore us.” She put her arm around Jen. 

Laughing and whispering, the two women strolled past the carriage just as Isaea climbed out. He glanced at them briefly without recognition and then hurried to Nalia. She too looked at the man and woman walking past, her eyes widening in sudden recognition as Jen smiled sweetly and raised a discreet hand in greeting. Nalia gave a slight smile, forcing a more somber expression onto her face as she turned to Isaea and walked with him into the house. 

“So, Nalia's at the official residence now. I'd say Momma is back!” said Jen as she disappeared into the house.

 


	20. Of Murders and Memories

Pleased with the small but unexpected triumph of making contact with Nalia, the two women headed away from the Roenall home. Tristan was still eager to find Keldorn and Jaheira but Jen decided it would be best if she paid Lila a visit to see what progress had been made in regards to her own role in Nalia's rescue. She thought that with Nalia apparently now under Lady Roenall's tender care it wouldn't be long before the young woman made her reappearance in society.

Leaving Tristan, she made her way across town. Nanny Bea had sent a little money with her clothes, so she found herself stopping occasionally at the numerous street vendors' carts to purchase trifles. Although she had traveled the streets a number of times, she had usually had someone accompany her. Generally she had been grateful for the company but she realized she was beginning to feel safer and more secure on her own in the city and thus was enjoying the opportunity to be by herself. As she approached a cluster of carts, a display of brightly colored fabric caught her eye and she stopped to browse. The merchant was more than willing to exhibit his wares and presented her with a number of garments to view. Several of the fabrics were light – almost gauzy and Jen ran an appreciative hand over them. The heat wave enveloping Athkatla showed no sign of waning and she felt lighter clothing was definitely in order.  Although she normally wouldn’t have considered a skirt, it seemed like much more practical attire for the heat and she picked one up, holding it against her.  Sudden shouts startled her and she looked up to see bodies spilling out of the tavern on the opposite side of the street. _Wonderful,_ she thought, _a bar fight. Does it never end?_

The confrontation expanded from the front of the tavern to the middle of the street. Soon, more of the inn's patrons flooded out of the doors to be joined by passersby in watching the action. _Rubberneckers!_ Jen thought crossly. She concluded her business and picked up her package.  Moving carefully so as not to attract attention, she kept an eye on the various groups of combatants, sidestepping the pair of brawlers who appeared suddenly in front of her. They ignored her, intent upon pounding each other into the proverbial dust. She breathed a sigh of relief at her narrow escape, turning sharply as a sudden clamor arose behind her, only to relax at the realization that the new noise heralded the arrival of the City Guard.

With her eyes glued to the fray and the on-coming guards, she began walking slowly away, starting suddenly as she bumped into a rather large and solid object. She jumped back in surprise, her heart pounding only to find herself looking up at Anomen. “My God, you sure scared me,” she gasped.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, reaching out a hand to steady her. “I thought you were with Tristan.”

Smiling weakly up at him, Jen replied, “We decided to go our separate ways. She wanted to catch up with Keldorn and Jaheira and I'm on my way to visit Lila.”

He glanced back towards the tavern where guardsmen were busily separating the combatants. “Perhaps I'd better go with you. This isn't the first fight I've seen today - I suspect it's the heat.”

“Great,” said Jen, her polite tone, torn between the sensibility of his suggestion and mild irritation over her loss of freedom.  Something seemed odd about him and she realized that like Tristan, he too was wearing leather armor instead of his customary platemail. _Makes sense. It's too damn hot for anything heavier._

They headed off down the street away from the scene of the recent conflict. Anomen matched his steps to hers, mirroring her pace. He was looking even more serious than usual and she wondered if something had happened.

“What did you do today?” she asked him.

“I visited the Council of Six[[i]](../#_edn1) to see if the Guard had uncovered any more evidence regarding my sister's death,” he replied shortly. His face tightened and she could clearly see the strain in his eyes.

She had forgotten about his sister -- murdered or so it was said, a couple of weeks previously. Nalia had told her about it. Apparently Tristan's company had gone with Anomen to his home upon receiving the news. Anomen’s father had told them that his sister, Moira, had been killed by a business competitor and had tried to persuade and then shame his son into taking revenge. Anomen had not done so and instead had taken the matter to the Council but it seemed clear that his decision was weighing upon him.

“Oh Anomen, I _am_ sorry.” Jen looked at him solemnly.

He shrugged off the sympathy with a scowl.  They walked along in silence for a few moments and soon, she stopped worrying about Anomen as her own thoughts began to intrude.  She knew very well what it was like to lose a sibling having lost her older brother many years before. Time had numbed the pain and she was therefore taken by surprise at the strength of her feelings at the memory.

It had been a warm day in late spring and the neighborhood kids had decided to go to swimming in the river. Jen’s mother had forbidden them to go, saying that it was too close to the end of the rainy season and the water was too high. Ronnie hadn’t liked the prohibition at all and had gotten mad.   _He really wanted to go. I knew better but I let him talk me into it._ After all, he was thirteen and her elder by two years. She remembered how happy she’d been, so flattered by his attention and by his wanting her company. So they had waited; pretending to become engrossed in the television show they were watching until their mother became so occupied in housework that she hadn’t noticed them getting up and sliding out of the house.

They joined their friends at the river in swinging on a hanging rope, taking turns projecting themselves across the rocks that lay under the bridge and into the swiftly running water below, screaming and laughing the entire time. The afternoon had passed quickly and they had been taking one last swing out over the river when something had gone terribly wrong. Ronnie had released the rope too soon, hitting the rocks beneath the bridge. The blow had been severe, knocking him out. She remembered racing into the water, remembered her heart pounding as if it would fly out of her mouth as she tried desperately to reach him, but the current had caught him, sucking him under and carrying him downstream. Search and Rescue had come out immediately but his body hadn’t been recovered until the next day. It had been horrible night filled with her mother’s weeping and the burning and twisting of guilt chewing a hole in her stomach. Her own disappearance had probably revived that memory for her parents as well. _They must be frantic. Both children gone!_

As the memory beset her, she felt her eyes filling with tears and she stopped walking, focused instead on trying to regain control.  Beside her Anomen came to a standstill. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” she replied, wiping her eyes in embarrassment. “No - no, that's not true. When you mentioned your sister, it reminded me of my brother.” She took a deep breath, forcing herself to regain composure.

Anomen smiled gravely at her, “You must miss him very much - as I do Moira. But I'm sure a way will be found to return you to your world and you'll see him again.”

“I do miss him, but I won't see him again. At least not in this life,” replied Jen. He looked at her blankly and she told him the story in a few short sentences.

They began walking again, this time in silence. Then Anomen spoke, echoing her own earlier expression of sympathy before adding, “But it seems we have something in common.”

“Yes. But in my case it’s been a long time.  I don’t normally talk about it.” Her lips twisted, “When Ronnie died, I didn't know whether I was angrier with _him_ for dying or _me_ for agreeing go to the river that day.” She paused, “What about you?”

He nodded heavily, “She might be alive if I’d not joined the Order; if I’d been at home.”

“Yes,” she agreed, “But even if you'd been at home, your sister still might have died. You don't _know_ that you could have done anything about it. I know that I couldn't have stopped Ronnie. He was older and supposed to be taking care of _me._ But I felt guilty for not saving him for a very long time.” Her mouth tightened for a second. “Took a whole lotta counseling to get through it, let me tell you.” 

He gave her a puzzled look. “What sort of advice could anyone _possibly_ give about such a thing?”

“It’s not advice really.  When things happen on my world, people sometimes go and talk with someone about it. My parents made _me_ go after my brother died. But - enough about me.  I know you’re dealing with recent events.

Anomen pressed his lips together and said nothing for a long moment. Jen looked at him sympathetically. “Look, I know we don’t know each other well, but I’m a good listener and sometimes it just helps to say what’s on your mind.”

“Well…it’s just that it’s hard to know whether I’m doing the right thing. My father blames me for not being at home but I _couldn't_ continue living there with him. But perhaps if I had….” He sighed heavily and continued, “When I refused to go into business with him, he told me that if I didn't want to follow in his footsteps, I'd have to make my own way – he'd not give me a penny. It’s hard being part of the Order as a charity case...”  A muscle twitched in his jaw and his tone was cold as he said,  “Tristan doesn't understand how difficult things have been for me, but then, why would she when everything has been so easy for _her!_ ” 

“I'm sorry Anomen. Truly sorry. But I think you're being unduly hard on yourself…and on Tristan,” Jen replied sympathetically.

A look of angry embarrassment swept across his face.  “I apologize. I truly shouldn’t be troubling you with such matters.  I don’t know why I said anything.”

“Like I said, sometimes we just need to get things out.  I’m not going to say anything to anyone so don’t worry about it,” Jen replied. “ _Really_ , I mean it.”

He looked at her for a moment and then nodded his acceptance. “Thank you.  So…why do you think I’m being hard on Tristan?  _She_ grew up with a father who loved her and…well, I know her life hasn't been easy as of late, but still, she seems to sail through it all as if she had no worries. She always seems to make the right choices, while I…don't.” He stared blindly over her shoulder as he spoke the last few words.

“I think we all feel life is easier for others than for ourselves, Anomen,” Jen said gently. She remained silent, watching him carefully before finally saying, “Why don't you just talk to _her_?  She might be more understanding that you think. You _do_ seem to have a lot on your mind.”

Anomen turned a dull red, “It's true my thoughts have been mostly on myself of late. I've tried to explain things to her several times, but I find myself getting so _angry_ – with her as much as anything else. And I don't want to do that. Then I tried to stay away, but I couldn't. I find myself drawn to her like a moth to flame…”

“Yes, I've noticed,” Jen interjected dryly, struggling not to giggle at the sudden and rather absurd vision of Anomen-as-moth that popped into her head.

“But no matter what I feel for her, I have nothing to offer.  In fact, I _can_ offer nothing until…after.”

“After what?” Jen asked in a puzzled tone.

“My test, of course!” he exclaimed. “The Order does not allow its squires to…uh, well, only knights can offer marriage. Anything else is less than honorable. In fact, I really shouldn't be staying alone with her at _The King's Cottage_ and I keep wondering what the Order must think. Keldorn's taken me aside  every time he's seen me during the last two days to tell me to be strong and not give into temptation. _And_ to remind me that she's a Bhaalspawn!” His face darkened. Gods! I wonder if I'll _ever_ be good enough for the Order,” he added angrily.

Looking thoughtfully up at him she said, “You know, when Ronnie died, I felt I had to do everything perfectly to make it up to my parents. It took a long time to understand that pressuring myself that way wasn’t very healthy. I'm sure it _is_ hard to be near Tristan and to know you can't be ‘with’ her yet. But she knows something is bothering you. Have you told **_her_** any of this?”

He looked sheepish. “No.”

“I think you should. I'm willing to bet that she'll be more supportive than you think. Give her a chance, Anomen.”

He nodded slowly. “I hope you don't think me foolish for talking of such things.”  He continued, echoing her earlier thought, “You and I don't really know each other well and I'm still not sure why I said so much.”

 _Always the teacher…or the little sister,_ _she thought ruefully._  “It's alright,” she said aloud, “Besides, as you said, we do have something in common.” She smiled warmly at him as she continued, “Now, it's my turn. I need _your_ help in understanding a couple of things.”

“What?” he asked.

“Athkatlan ideas. Now here, I've seen a number of different types of beings. Most seem to tolerate each other reasonably well. But I've also heard Tristan called a ‘Bhaalspawn’ whatever that means and viewed with some suspicion. Then there's the way tieflings are treated. It surprises me and I'm just trying to understand. Why do people distrust them?”

Shrugging, he replied, “Why don't you talk to Haer'Dalis? Or better yet, ask him about his family tree. I think once he explains, you'll understand a great deal.”  He looked down at her.  ”And as for Tristan, if the rumors are true, her true father was the god Bhaal – the Lord of Murder. It's hard for many to believe that those born of such an evil parent can possibly work for the good of others. Yet I've seen Tristan do nothing but good so far and have come to believe she stands for right.”

“And do you trust her?” asked Jen her eyes searching his face.

Anomen stared at her silently for a moment before saying quietly, “I think so.”

“Good! replied Jen firmly. “But if you believe Tristan is good, then why is it so hard to believe that Haery and his kind are so different? Has _he_ done anything to make you believe he is evil? Haer’Dalis _has_ told me some of what it means to be a tiefling. But having “bad blood” in one's family tree doesn't mean one will turn out to be bad. If Tristan, a direct descendent of an ‘evil’ god, can chose the right path then why wouldn't a tiefling with a much less recent connection to his or her ‘evil’ forbearer, be able to do the same? It doesn't make sense.”

He shook his head, “Perhaps not. But in addition to being descended from fiends, many tieflings have often shown themselves to _be_ evil or untrustworthy and thus the all are viewed with suspicion. They can't help it – they have an inborn potential for evil. But perhaps you should talk with Keldorn. He has considerable experience with demons of all kinds and I think can help you understand better than I.” He glanced down at her, “You obviously care for Haer'Dalis.” It was Jen's turn to blush and she felt her cheeks growing warm, “but I would advise you to be on your guard. There's just something about him that makes my blood run cold, not the mention that he has _quite_ a reputation with the opposite sex. Plus he has not yet proven his worth to our company for all his fine words.”

“I'm becoming aware of his reputation,” she said a bit stiffly. They walked silently for a few moments and then she turned back to him, “Anomen, would you mind walking back to the _Iron Rose_ with me? I don't feel much like visiting Lila after all. I'll just write her a note.”

He nodded agreement and they turned their steps toward the inn. Upon reaching their destination, Jen turned to him, impulsively placing a hand on his arm. “Thank you. For everything. I'll think on what you've said if you'll do the same.”

He smiled down at her, “I will.” She opened the door and entered the inn, looking back to wave at him before she closed the door.

* * *

[[i]](../#_ednref1) Athkatla's government is an oligarchy ruled by a merchant council dubbed the "Council of Six". <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Athkatla>

 


	21. Dreams and Faith

Jen entered the inn, heading directly for her room. She wanted to go someplace quiet where she could write her note and then think in peace. Her conversation with Anomen had been disturbing, thanks to the long buried memories it had dredged up.

As she started up the stairs, she heard someone call to her and turning saw the innkeeper coming towards her. "Yes, what is it?"

"I've got a letter for you," he replied, heading towards the massive wooden bar in the common room. After a minute of digging under the counter he triumphantly produced a folded paper sealed with wax. Jen took it with a smile and a quick thank you before continuing her trek up the stairs. Entering her room, she collapsed onto the bed, where she lay for a few moments, limp with exhaustion, before rolling onto her stomach and opening the letter.

 _Jen - My friend, Erinna, tells me that her mother is holding a party tomorrow night and Lady R. plans to attend. I hear Nalia is expected as well. Erinna has invitations for the two of us. I suggest you visit me soon – tomorrow morning at the latest, so we can prepare. Lila_

Jen regarded the paper thoughtfully. She was far too tired to go to Lila's at the moment and had agreed to meet Tristan and the others later that evening. Tomorrow was soon enough. Placing the letter on the small table next to the bed, she rolled onto her back and closed her eyes.

She lay quietly for a few moments thinking of her brother and wondering how things might have turned out had he lived. A quotation, _For of all sad words of tongue or pen, The saddest are these: “It might have been!*_ ran through her mind and she acknowledged its truth. She had not intended to tell Anomen about Ronnie but something about his unhappiness had triggered her own memories. The pain felt surprisingly fresh given how hard she’d worked to reconcile herself with her brother's death. _Perhaps it's just a sign that I'm overwhelmed by everything that's happened. I always think of myself as being calm, cool and collected, but this experience has certainly taken it to an extreme. And I sure don't know what I would have done without Nalia. Or Haery._

Thinking of Haer'Dalis sobered her as she recalled Anomen's other remarks. She needed to think about what it meant, for as much as she wanted to cling to her belief in treating others based upon their actions she had to admit that she was beginning to find all the comments about Haer’Dalis’s background to be mildly unnerving. She’d certainly been given plenty of hints by Nalia and Nanny regarding his womanizing tendencies and it was true that he enjoyed ridiculing Anomen, but he'd never shown any signs of being inherently malevolent – at least in her presence.

His demonic ancestry hadn't troubled her, at least until now. She had never paid much attention to horror films and certainly wasn’t frightened by them. Possibly because she had always thought of demons in a less than traditional sense - not monsters with fangs, scaly skin and spiked tails as depicted in movies or ancient myths, but more of an archetype that showed up in real life in the form of humans whose lust for power or ability to convince others to commit atrocious acts had made them monsters.

She thrashed about restlessly, trying to stay awake just a little longer. She needed to think but her eyes felt dry and heavy as if she’d been crying for days and all she wanted to do was close them. _Sooooo tired_ , she thought as she drifted off.

The forest looked familiar. She had been there before. She recognized the narrow path, winding its way between the trees. The last time she had been in the forest, she had been following Haer'Dalis. This time she was alone. She walked down the forest trail, looking for an exit but saw only the track in front of her. Finally, she spotted a clearing that seemed to glow with a soft yellow light. Putting her hand in her coat pocket, she pulled out the portal gem. It grew warmer and began to throb as if it had a life of its own. As the lines in the stone began to glow she realized why. A portal!

She hurried forward until she reached the entrance and peered in. It was difficult to see anything, for the opening seemed to shimmer and move as if electric currents were passing through it. She put her hand out cautiously and the force field parted allowing her to see a long downward sloping tunnel with someone inside who looked very familiar. It looked like… Ronnie? Ronnie! She tried to hurry towards him but found herself unable to move but he turned just then and upon spotting her came racing forward.

“Jen! What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I'm trying to get home. Mom and Dad must be so worried. But what are you doing here??”

“I…I don't know. I was playing ball with my friends…” He held up a baseball. “I've got some really great friends here, Jen…and anyway all of a sudden they were gone and I felt myself pulled forward and then I was here. But I certainly didn't expect to see you. Why are you here?”

“It's a long story, Ronnie. I don't know if we've time for it. I was hiking with Beth – you remember Beth don't you? Anyway, we were hiking and went into a cave. I found a stone and picked it up and all of a sudden I was here. I've been trying to get home ever since.”

“You haven't been trying very hard, have you? I mean, I know you – you're very determined. If you'd really been trying, you'd have gotten home by now. Something's keeping you here. Or someone.” The ball flew up into the air as he tossed it up, coming down into his hands with a slight smack.

She found herself blushing furiously, “What are you talking about?! You don't know anything!”

He laughed mockingly, a comfortably derisive sound; an older brother sound. “Yes you have and I bet you're trying to decide if you like him well enough to stay. You always were the cautious sort.”

“How can you know anything of what I think?” she retorted. “You were gone before I even liked boys!”

“True, but I've been watching you little sister. Not all the time, but enough to know things. I saw you with….” He stopped, studying her face searchingly for a moment. “…with…well, I've seen you with 'em all. And something always goes sour, doesn't it? Because you're always so cautious, so sure someone will hurt you if you trust 'em.”

“Like you did?” she responded angrily, glaring at him. “Talking me into going to the river with you and then dying on me?!”  
He looked at her solemnly for a moment and then said, “I'm sorry about that little sister. I truly am, but I still say you've gotta learn to trust.” He looked down at his feet for a moment and then back towards her, softly quoting.

“Better trust all, and be deceived,  
And weep that trust and that deceiving,  
Than doubt one heart, that if believed  
Had blessed one's life with true believing.”*

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Maybe it means you should start trusting yourself; trust your gut,” he replied. “You've gotta start somewhere.” He began walking slowly down the tunnel and away from her.

“Wait!” she screamed as a feeling of panic swept over her at this second abandonment. “Don’t leave!”

“You can't come where I'm going. Not now. But I'll be here when you're ready, Jen. I'll be waiting.” And with that he disappeared around a bend in the tunnel.

Trust…. Jen struggled to awaken from her nap, then lay still for a few moments. _Another dream. What is it about this place?_ She’d never been much of a dreamer before but now? Gods having children that walk the earth, elves, tieflings…. _Maybe spirits are somehow closer to this world._ She shuddered. The idea seemed well…just creepy. Sighing, she rolled onto her side, feeling a strong need to clear her head. Perhaps a conversation with Keldorn would help. It was time to find out. She got up, raking her fingers through her hair and sliding into her shoes before heading out the door.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Most of the company was at the park when she arrived. Only Haer'Dalis and the newest member - Yoshimo - were absent. She stood on the outskirts of the group for a minute, watching them talk companionably with each other and feeling a little lonely. Then Anomen looked up and saw her, coming forward to greeting her warmly. Leaning forward so the others wouldn't hear he said, "I've told Keldorn about our conversation."

She smiled up at him, "That was kind of you. And will he talk with me?"

"Yes, he'd be pleased to do so. He thought that perhaps tomorrow morning you might like to go with him to the Temple of the Radiant Heart. They have a library with many texts on the subject and he thinks they might contain something to help you understand." He looked at her more closely, "You look somewhat disturbed. I am sorry if I've upset you. I know you like Haer'Dalis a great deal."

“It's not your fault and it's not really so much of what you said about tieflings or Haery that's disturbing me; it's my brother. I just didn't expect to re-live those feelings again, that's all. But don't worry, I'll be ok."

He looked at her, "Are you certain?”

"Yes, it’s not easy, anymore than it will be for you, but I’ve done it before. I’ll be ok. I appreciate your concern though."

His eyes softened as he looked down at her and he said in a troubled voice, "I know you understand, but I don't think I'm as strong as you are. I don't know if I can ever reconcile myself with Moira's loss."

"Yes," she replied, "You can and you will. You must, for her sake if not your own. Keep her memory alive Anomen by remembering the good times and how much you loved her. Tristan can help you, I'm sure of it. Now tell me, have you talked with her yet?"

"No. But I plan to do so on the way back to our inn," he replied.

She patted his arm, "Good. I think you'll find her quite receptive if you treat her as a friend instead of yelling at her." He stiffened, but before he could respond, Jen smiled at him ruefully, "I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I just meant that she'll probably appreciate your talking with her."

As they turned back to the group, she saw that Haer'Dalis had finally arrived and was observing the conversation between Anomen and herself with some interest. She headed towards him, her recent dream and her brother’s words echoing in her mind. _I’ve got to decide what I’m doing. It’s not fair to me or to him otherwise._

She reached Haer'Dalis and looked up at him, noticing his eyes seemed to have shifted and brightened in the oddly disturbing way she was beginning to associate with stress and when he spoke, his voice had an edge. “I'm pleased to see you, my Kestrel. I looked for you at the inn, but was told you'd already gone. I wondered what could have drawn you away. But perhaps it was the irresistible discourse of our sullen squire that brings you here before me. Although I must say I'd be surprised to find he has the wit to offer much conversation of interest.”

Jen looked at him in amazement. _Is he jealous? No, that would be ridiculous._ She said aloud, “It was nothing. He just had something he wanted to say to me. I'll tell you about it later.”

He ignored the hint and replied, “I begin to wonder, my dear, whether perhaps the misgivings yon noble cur voices so frequently and freely regarding this Sparrow are in fact beginning to taint your thoughts.”

“What?!” She saw his face tighten and continued in a milder tone, “It's nothing, Haery. Really. We just learned we had something in common, that's all. And I will tell you, but just not right now." Smiling, she slipped an arm about his waist and gave him a quick hug. "I must say, I am glad to see you!” He looked at her silently for a moment, finally returning the smile, although it did not seem to reach his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892)  
> 2\. Frances Anne Kemble


	22. High Stakes

A short time later Haer'Dalis left the park, moving swiftly towards the center of town. As he walked, he reached into the pouch at his waist, pulling out a soft Hat of Disguise and putting it on. Although he _knew_ his appearance had changed he nonetheless glanced towards the nearest window for reassurance and was pleased to see the taller, more aristocratic human face and form of Aidan D'Asturia looking back at him. The hat itself wasn't visible, having transformed itself into a ribbon holding his long, now-light hair in a loose queue.

He didn't really want to keep his appointment with Lord Roenall as he would have much preferred to go back to the inn with Jen and find a way to erase the memory of her smiling so engagingly up at Anomen. Angry heat passed through him as he recalled the sight. Jen had assured him it was nothing, but his training as both a bard and as an actor made him sensitive to nuances in expression and he'd recognized the look they'd exchanged for what it was; an intimate understanding. He clenched his teeth, reliving the scene yet again. _I'll kill that troublesome squire before I lose Jen to him,_ he vowed silently.

Aidan-Haer'Dalis turned down a narrow alleyway and into a side street, spotting a large, unpretentious-looking house – his destination – now just a little ways ahead of him.  He went towards it, opening its front door. As he entered, two men, seated just inside, rose and came towards him.

“Sir,” said one of the men, recognizing him, “How nice to see you this evening. Lord Roenall has been expecting you.”

Aidan smiled and started past them, but the second man grasped his arm. “Hold a moment, sir. You'll need to give me your weapons. You know they're not allowed in here.”

“Weapons?” replied Aidan blandly. “What weapons? You _know_ I don't carry any.” He unbuttoned his coat and holding it open wide as the two quickly searched him. They found nothing. He went past them, smiling to himself with the knowledge that his swords were well hidden, thanks to the Hat of Disguise.

He walked into a large open room, thickly carpeted and painted in warm, friendly colors intended to inspire its occupants with a sense of ease. Numerous games of chance were in progress at the large tables scattered throughout the room. He glanced about, looking for Lord Roenall and not seeing his quarry, passed into an adjoining room where a crowd of men clustered thickly around a long table, calling out bets as dice tumbled and rolled. It was there that he spotted Farrington Roenall and moved towards him.

Lord Roenall looked up, “There you are, old boy. We were beginning to wonder if you were going to show. Rory, Firth and I been waiting all evening, hoping you'd come and give us an opportunity to revenge ourselves for last night's losses.” He shook his head, an expression that was half smile, half scowl coming over his face. “Although every night's the same.  How you continually manage to achieve victory in the face of defeat is beyond me.”

“'Tis good fortune only,” replied Aidan. “But luck is an inconstant companion as you should know well.” He winked, adding,

 _“Dame Fortune is a fickle gipsy,  
And always blind, and often tipsy;  
Sometimes for years and years together,  
She'll bless you with the sunniest weather,  
Bestowing honour, pudding, pence,  
You can't imagine why or whence;  
—Then in a moment—Presto, pass!—  
Your joys are withered like the grass.” _ [1] __

He grinned, slapping Lord Roenall on the back, while their companions roared with laughter.

“Your Muse is as suspect as your good fortune,” Lord Roenall said, giving him a sour look. He might have added something more, but Firth interrupted him saying, “You're just jealous, Farrington. Come, let's have a glass of wine and perhaps we can persuade Aidan that he owes us a game or two.”

Laughing, the four men made their way back to the front room where they appropriated one of the circular tables and began calling for a bottle of wine. Aidan picked up a deck of cards and expertly shuffled them.

The wine arrived and after a bit of good natured, ribald joking with the barmaid, the group settled down to play. Lady Luck was mercurial at first, favoring none and a small fortune in winnings passed from hand to hand over the course of several games. Aidan, however, was finding it difficult to stay focused on the game, for his mind kept returning to Jen and the puzzle of her sudden, apparent friendship with Anomen. His frustration grew and he longed to leave, yet he knew he must stay and maintain the charade. The play went on.

A couple of hours and several bottles of wine later, Aidan wearily surveyed the damage to his fortunes.  Although his companions were busy with jokes regarding his bad luck, he knew his losses had more to do with the fact that his mind was elsewhere. He needed to focus. The stakes had growing steeper with each hand and he knew he must exert all his skill and recoup or quit. Tristan would be quite angry if he lost too heavily for she had given him a considerable share of the company's gold. He glanced across the table at Lord Roenall who returned his gaze smugly; much of Aidan's money was in front of him.

Firth dealt the next round. Aidan picked up his cards and surveyed them carefully.  King, Queen, Jack, seven and four.  He glanced around the table and saw Firth and Rory looking at him expectantly while Lord Roenall toyed with the cards in his hand. Not the best hand he'd ever been dealt, but there was potential. Aidan pushed his stake into the center of the table and put down the two low cards. Picking up the replacements that Firth dealt to him, he looked around the table at the others, “Are you in?”

The others put in their money and then began betting began in earnest. Firth folded almost immediately, slapping his cards onto the table in disgust, but the others increased their bets, each keeping a careful eye on the others. Rory called, and after surveying the various hands, pushed the pile of gold towards Aidan with a disgusted snort.

Their game continued with Aidan growing more bored as time went on. His luck had turned however and he began to win in earnest until the rest of the group was reduced to covering their losses with IOUs. Finally, Firth called it quits and after some grumbling, made arrangements to meet Aidan the next day and redeem his note. Rory did the same and the two men left. Aidan watched them go, keeping one eye on Lord Roenall as he tried to make himself inconspicuous, sliding through the crowd towards the door. Aidan sauntered over to him saying, “It is late, is it not? Or early, depending upon how you look at it. But I too am ready to end our play for the evening. We're heading in the same direction, so we can discuss repayment on the way, if you like.”

Lord Roenall shrugged resignedly, “Of course.”

Aidan saw the nobleman shiver slightly; a sight that left him smirking as he thought, _Lord Roenall has to know he is in trouble, for he not only lost heavily to me this evening, but has done so on previous nights._ He held several of Lord Roenall’s personally signed notes, adding up to a considerable sum of money. Aidan was well aware Lord Roenall had hoped to avoid repayment, at least in the immediate future, and with that in mind, had encouraged his friends to talk of the impending marriage between his son, Isaea and Nalia DeArnise, wealthy heiress to her father's estate as they had played.

They walked in silence for a few moments. Then Lord Roenall said with an air of feigned nonchalance, “About my notes…. I really will make good on them - but I must confess, old boy, that you've caught me in rather embarrassed straits at the moment….”

Aidan looked at him, “Ah, but I understood that you'd come into some funds. I don't play with those who can't pay their debts.”

Lord Roenall reddened in embarrassment. “I just need a little more time. My son's impending marriage…will solve everything if nothing impedes it. I don't want to embarrass the family just now, if you know what I mean.”

“I do,” replied Aidan grimly, “And you should have thought of that before giving me your notes of hand. For I too have made a promise which I must honor.” He paused thoughtfully, “But perhaps not all is lost. You owe me….hmmmmm, let's see…200,000 gold?”

Lord Roenall nodded numbly.

“Then perhaps your problem is solved, for I would be willing to take a rich wife in exchange for your debt. Perhaps this wealthy woman your son is set to marry…. What say you?”

Looking horrified, Lord Roenall stammered, “But you…you've never met her! Why would you want to marry a woman you've never laid eyes on before?”

“Ah,” said Aidan, “think of the advantages of having a wealthy wife with whom one has no real ties. Her fortune will keep us both in comfort – she'll want for nothing and if she's pretty, I'll learn to love her. If not, well, then I'll love others and she will too. Either way, the fates will provide. And the sooner you introduce us, the sooner I'll lay eyes on her.” He smiled wolfishly at the older man.

“B-b-b-but, it's not proper! Lady Roenall won't permit it!”

“I'd daresay you haven't much choice. You gave me your word; your promise to pay, knowing all the while that you couldn't cover your debts. That constitutes fraud, so you'll go to prison or worse. And it will give the young lady grounds for ending her connection to your family. What will your wife say then? She'll not thank you for the loss of your family's honor or for being forced to live in poverty, shunned by society. After all, isn't that what your wife's worked so hard all these years to prevent?”

He looked at Lord Roenall and laughed mockingly, “Did you think I wouldn't hear the rumors?  'Tis true my family does not reside in Athkatla, but I have many friends and they have told me much about you. So, what do you say? I offer you a way out of your embarrassments; your notes of hand in exchange for the release of your wealthy protégé to my care? I won't breathe a word and your reputation will be intact. There will be other means of mending your fortunes….”

“I…I ….” Lord Roenall's shoulders slumped in defeat. “Alright, I'll introduce you. But I can promise nothing until I discuss your offer with my family. We're attending a party tomorrow at the Skytower residence. Come to my home tomorrow evening and you can join us. I'll introduce Nalia to you then.”

Aidan smiled and Lord Roenall had the sudden and rather uncomfortable feeling that he was looking at a rather large and hungry predator.

“Be prepared to take my offer.  Don't think you'll be able to trick me or to run away. Your wife and son are no match for my friends and me. And we will be watching you closely. Besides, I know of others who hold your notes; I've seen you give them out like pennies to beggars. Once your other friends hear you can't pay me, they'll call in your debts. There will be no way to keep it a secret and the Roenalls will be ruined.”

Lord Roenall shuddered. His home loomed up in the early morning darkness and he entered it quickly, leaving Aidan in the street. Aidan laughed as the door slammed shut and he heard the thump of a heavy bar slamming down inside.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Aidan made his way out of the Government District, heading for the slums and the _Copper Coronet_. Reaching up, he removed the Hat of Disguise, tucking it safely back into the pouch at his waist. The pouch was getting rather full and he wondered whether he ought to return to the _Iron Rose_ to empty it. The streets however, seemed quiet and he finally decided he could protect himself well enough to continue on his errand.

A few drunken patrons lounged around the _Copper Coronet's_ small tables. Haer'Dalis looked around the room, looking for familiar faces. He saw a few, although not the one for which he was looking. He headed towards the bar, motioning to the innkeeper.

“Can I help you?”

“I'm looking for a Kara-Turan who's been staying here. A man by the name of Yoshimo. Have you seen him?” A couple pieces of silver slid unobtrusively across the bar and into innkeeper’s willing hand.

“Yes, he's here. Check the room at the top of the stairs. On the right.”

Haer'Dalis headed up the stairs and tried the door of the room at the top. It was locked. After a couple of minutes of pounding however, it opened.

“Yoshimo?”

“Yes,” the man replied.  He was attired in a loose robe. Haer’Dalis could smell the odor of sweet grass mixed with sage and wondered if he’d interrupted some kind of magic ritual or meditation.

Tristan sent me,” Haer’Dalis said.

“Ah,” the man replied. “Is it done?”

“Yes. I've played my part for the evening. 'Tis your turn now.”

They stared at each other unblinkingly for a few moments and then Yoshimo stepped aside, waving Haer’Dalis into the room. “Best if our conversation isn't conducted before the curious.”

Haer'Dalis entered the room and looked around. The furnishings were dull and cheap looking except for a small but exquisite shrine set up on a table. A small bundle burned in the brazier, confirming Haer’Dalis’s suspicion that his call was an interruption.

Haer'Dalis gestured towards the table, “I've disturbed you. I can wait until you're finished.”

Yoshimo walked over to the table and extinguished the burning incense, then slipped off his robe, exposing the dark utilitarian clothing that lay beneath. “It's no matter. If you've set the stage, I must go. We shouldn't give the Roenalls too much time to plan.” He moved about the room, stowing bits and pieces of gear in his garments as he listened to Haer'Dalis's tale of the evening's events. Finally, when all was ready, he went to the door, pausing to allow Haer'Dalis to leave ahead of him. His fingers were busy near the latch and Haery realized he was setting a trap.  Yoshimo looked up and seeing Haer’Dalis watching quizzically, laughed, “You can't be too careful. Particularly in a place like the _Coronet_.”

“'Tis true,” Haer'Dalis replied, “Well, I've completed my errand and will leave you to it.” He saluted Yoshimo briefly and made his way down the stairs and out the door.

The streets were still as Haer'Dalis made his way back to the _Iron Rose Inn._ A light wind had sprung up, a welcome relief from the heat that had smothered the city for the past week or more. The sweet scents of honeysuckle and wisteria wafted towards him, carried by the gentle breeze while the blooms worked their way into the street over the tops of window boxes and fences. A rosebush planted near the street reached a thorny arm out through its confining fence to catch at him briefly. He stopped to disentangle himself and then plucked a particularly lovely specimen that waved near his head. The flower was dark red, almost black in color and its scent was enchantingly sweet.

He continued through the streets, keeping a watchful eye on darkened doorways and alleyways as he passed, finally reached the _Iron Rose_ where he entered the quiet inn and made his way up the stairs.

After carefully placing the rose on the table near the bed, he opened the large trunk that had come with him from the _Five Flagons_ and removed most of its contents. His fingers explored the bottom of the trunk until they came across a small dimple in its surface. Pressing down on the indentation caused the trunk's floor to lift slightly, exposing a deeper cavity within. He deposited most of the gold and Lord Roenal's notes within the hidden space and then replaced the false bottom, tossing costumes and other items over it before closing the lid and locking the trunk securely.

He sat down on the bed with a sigh and his thoughts went to Jen. He tried to think of other things but could not rid himself of his longing to see her. Then the rose caught his eye and inspiration struck him. Crossing the room to his pack, he pulled out a fragment of paper along with a quill and ink. After quickly inscribing a few sentences on the paper, he rolled it up and put it in his pocket. Then, catching up the rose in his right hand, he left the room and headed down the hall.

The locked door was but a minor obstacle. It took only a moment to cast a _Knock_ spell before it swung open and he entered the room on silent feet, pausing to shut the door carefully behind himself.

Jen lay in bed, soundly asleep. As he looked down at her, his gaze softened. She was lovely, with wisps of long brown hair arranged in charming disarray around a face flushed with the soft pink beauty of sleep.

Desire swept over him as he gazed down on her and he knew he didn't dare stay so he placed the rose and the note on the adjoining pillow and then bent over to kiss her gently on the cheek. She stirred for a moment, one arm sliding limply out from under the covers and onto the quilt. He stood, watching her sleep for another minute before quietly leaving the room, setting the latch so that the door locked behind him and she was safe. The thought of returning to his own room to sleep was unappealing, so instead he went out to pace the narrow confines of the cool garden in an attempt to quench the fires of mind and body.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A delicate perfume filled Jen's nostrils as she awoke the next morning and she breathed in deeply. The scent was delicious and she turned slightly trying to locate it, her eyes flying open as something sharp and spiny scratched her cheek. She sat up rubbing her eyes and saw the rose, then noticing the note next to her, reached over and picked it up. Opening it she read,

 _Go, lovely rose!_ _  
Tell her that wastes her time and me  
That now she knows,  
When I resemble her to thee,  
 _ _How sweet and fair she seems to be_. __ [2] __

- _Haer’Dalis_

 _Oh Haery,_ she thought, _how like you,_ and smiling with pleasure, she placed the note back on the pillow and got up to prepare for her meeting with Keldorn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Winthrop Mackworth Praed (1802-1839)  
> 2\. Edmund Waller (1606-1687)


	23. Heaven and Horror Stories

Later that morning Jen found herself seated at a massive wooden table in the library of the Temple of the Radiant Heart watching as Keldorn prowled around the room, stopping occasionally to pull texts from the shelves. She wondered at her own eagerness to talk with him. Most of their conversations had taken place many weeks before during the brief journey back to Athkatla. However for all her limited contact, she felt comfortable in his rather fatherly presence.

After a time, he came back to the table and after placing the books in front of her, picked up a thick tome and opened it, handing it to her with a smile.  “Behold, the wisdom of the ages,” he said solemnly but his eyes were twinkling. Interested, she pulled it forward and found herself looking at a rather gruesome picture of a skull-faced being whose eyeballs rested in gaping sockets.

Jen shuddered involuntarily as she began to turn the book's pages. It seemed to be filled with a variety of pictures, ranging from beings with nothing more unusual about them than a few patches of discolored skin to humanoid creatures with tails, horns or scales and fleshy blobs covered in a variety of orifices and tentacles. “What _are_ these creatures?”

“Tieflings,” he replied. “They come in all shapes and sizes, you know. Not all of them look like Haer'Dalis. Now these,” he said as he handed her another book, its opened pages displaying two monsters, one grotesquely humanoid, the other a hideous winged gargoyle, “are true demons.”

Jen glanced at the pictures and then dropped her head into her hands, her fingers scrunching her hair. “I'm not sure how you think looking at pictures will help, Keldorn,” she said.

He looked at her gravely and then, sitting down beside her, he said, “Anomen told me you wished to learn more about the evils that beset Faerun and its Multiverse. I will tell you what I know, but I had thought to show you some of the creatures, simply to help you believe in their existence.”

She smiled, “A picture's worth a thousand words, huh?”

He smiled back and patted her hand, “Very true, my dear.”

“Well, perhaps I should tell you, I've seen pictures like these before – on Earth. But they aren't of real creatures.” She sighed, “It's hard to explain. On my world, we too once believed in demons. Perhaps at one time they truly did exist in the same way you know them here. But now the reality is gone. These are only creatures of fantasy to me.”

He looked puzzled, “I don't understand.”

“I don't really expect you to.” She ran her fingers through her hair thoughtfully and then said, “You go to plays, right?”

“Yes, of course,” he replied patiently.

“And at times there are monsters in the plays, but you know they aren't real, right?”

He nodded.

“Well,” she continued, “imagine seeing your favorite play – not acted on the stage, but real; as if you're not watching actors, but actual events.”

Her eyes searched his face, seeking understanding before she continued. “What I'm saying is that we have imaginary monsters too, but we make them seem real. I…I don't know if I can explain it in a way that makes sense, but we can create living pictures and images. And instead of going to a playhouse and watching actors on the stage, we watch the stories in our own homes – on a box called a 'television' or in a place called a ‘movie theatre.’ And the difference is that while you would _never_ believe the action on a stage is real, the pictures we create are real enough for a person to believe what they're seeing _is_ real.”

He looked at her silently for a moment and then said, “Regardless of the form it takes, evil still exists on your world, does it not?”

“Yes, evil exists. But it is created and perpetuated by humans – not these monsters.” She sighed. “I don't really think it matters where the evil comes from; it exists in many forms. What I'm trying to understand though, are what seem to be your beliefs about other beings. On my world, we think someone is bad based upon his or her actions. But here there seems to be an assumption of evil based upon genetics rather than evidence. And that's what I need you to help me understand, Keldorn.”

He pulled one of the books towards him, slowing flipping through its pages. She sat quietly, watching him as he stared thoughtfully downwards. Finally he said, “Humans on this world aren't immune from doing evil deeds. However, here we share our world with so many other creatures. Some are good, but many are not. I suspect you share your world with many of the same creatures but just aren't aware of it. Or possibly, the Gods and demons of your plane have physically withdrawn from your world, preferring to exercise a more subtle influence. But it is not so here where the planes of existence are more closely connected. And there are many portals to other planes, just as you yourself have discovered. Demons and monsters exist in the flesh on Faerun and they live but for one thing. They hate other beings and live only to enslave and destroy. Their behavior _is_ evil and the only thing they value is power over others. Now, you've asked me several questions. Let me ask you one in turn.”

She nodded her consent and he continued, “If you were given a ring and told that it was all powerful and that you could use it to do anything, would you take it?”

Jen thought for a moment and then said slowly, “I'd be a little afraid to take it. Power has a price, after all. There's a saying on my world that absolute power corrupts absolutely. And it seems to be true. I would _want_ to take the ring because of the good I could do, but I'd also worry that having such power might cause me to become jaded and treat others as objects, forgetting their humanity.”

“Such concern shows your true character,” he said gravely, “but evil creatures have no such thoughts. Their very nature is devoid of anything but the most ruthless desire to gain power over others and they use their power to destroy both physically and spiritually. They would desire the ring and do anything they could to obtain it and use it for their own ends. There is nothing in their nature that allows them to conceive of doing anything else.”

She nodded slowly, “They are not so very different from the human monsters who have evolved on my world. But again, even those cases were not necessarily the result of inherited characteristics. And even if I accept that there are creatures whose reality is evil, I still don't understand how you can have beings whose nature is rooted in both good and evil and assume they must _be_ evil. Do you think Tristan is evil? I've been told she is the child of an evil God and has inherited the essence of her true father, yet you follow her.”

Keldorn reached out to pat Jen's hands. Shaking his head he said, “My child, I see your struggle and know these things _are_ very difficult to understand if you've not lived with them all of your life. Perhaps it is no less difficult than for me to understand the wonders of your world as you've described them to me. However, as I said before, on this world, the Gods – both good _and_ evil live closer to us than perhaps do your own. You are trying to understand the very real suspicion that Anomen – and I – have regarding Haer'Dalis.  All I can tell you about tieflings, is simply that many are known to be of an evil disposition while others are the way they are because their families have lived at the heart of universal evil for so long. I will not tell you that all of them are evil, but given their predisposition, I believe, along with Anomen and many others of this world, that it is wiser to be cautious until proven in error.”

Jen picked up another book and began thumbing through it in silence. After a few moments, she said, “And Tristan?”

“She too has darkness within her, but unlike many others with such tendencies, she fights against it. You asked why I travel with her. At first, it was because the Order asked me to watch her, but now I have come to respect and care for her. I see her struggle and will do all in my power to help keep her feet on the path of righteousness.”

Standing up, Jen began to pace the room. _I don't know what to think. I've always been taught to value actions over words. Grandmother used to tell me that people would show their true colors by their actions and Haery's behavior has been fine, at least from what I've seen. He's always been very good to_ ** _me_** ** _._**

Her feet brought her to a standstill in front of Keldorn who had remained seated. Looking him directly in the eye, she said, “You have the ability to detect evil, do you not?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“And have you ever used it in Haer'Dalis's presence? And if so, did it tell you anything about him?”

He looked at her solemnly, “I have and I can sense undercurrents in him as I can in Tristan. Haer'Dalis, however, is not like her. I sense no great force of good within him any more than I can sense a great evil. Since the time he began traveling with us, I have watched him carefully and listened to his words. I know that his creed is destruction and he views annihilation—of people or property, as a form of necessary change. I believe he travels with us only because he sees Tristan as a great power whose actions will bring him closer to the goal of his sect – universal entropy and chaos. And this goal, I believe is what keeps him from truly connecting to others which in turn is perhaps what keeps him from truly being _good_. His relationships _must_ remain in a transitory state for he _cannot_ allow himself to care deeply for other beings. If he did, it could well undermine his life's philosophy. And no one likes to think his beliefs to be wrong or his life wasted.”

Jen nodded slowly and then cast her mind back over the past several weeks. Haer'Dalis had treated her with nothing but kindness, befriending her and keeping her company on this strange world, even offering to help her find way home. And he had been forthright in his feelings for her, admitting his belief that nothing, including his feelings, was permanent. At least he'd been honest about _that._ As she remembered the gifts he'd left on her pillow that morning, she thought of a line from one of her Grandmother's favorite poems, _Deeds are better things than words are, Actions mightier than boastings._[ _ **[1]**_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/150647/chapters/#_edn1) __

She looked up to find Keldorn's eyes upon her, warm with sympathy. Forcing a smile onto her lips, she said, “Thank you. I can't say our conversation has been comforting, but I think I have a better idea of why everyone seems so concerned.”

He smiled gently, “I've told you what I know. As for your feelings for Haer'Dalis,” he spread his hands, “you'll have to make up your own mind whether what he offers is worth the risk. I cannot advise you there. However, we have a saying here that I have found to be true. It goes like this: 'the greater the risk, the greater the reward.' ”

 She sank into the nearest chair and pulled her feet up, tucking her chin into her knees. As she stared thoughtfully at the floor, Ronnie's words came back to her again, _Trust…you've gotta start somewhere…._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The Song of Hiawatha, Part ix, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)


	24. Revels and Reunion

The carriage rolled slowly forward, making its way towards the sea of light that marked the entrance to the Skytower home and closer to Nalia. Looking across the interior of the carriage, Jen smiled as she caught Anomen's eye. Lila's husband, Ian had originally planned to escort the two women, but his plans had been changed to accommodate the unanticipated arrival of an important business associate late that afternoon. At first Lila had hoped Ian would be able to join them but things had dragged on until it became clear he could not go with them. After a bit of fussing over whether or not they should attend without an escort, Lila had thought of Anomen. He had thrown up all kinds of objections, but in the end, Jen had talked him into attending the party.

The vehicle jerked as it swung into a long line of conveyances disgorging gorgeously clothed occupants at the home's entrance and Jen's eyes followed each new group as they streamed into the house like a flock of brightly colored butterflies. Her stomach twinged nervously as she sat, waiting for their turn. _Why am I nervous? It's not as if I haven't gone to a party before!_ Still, this was to be her first appearance in Athkatlan society and she wasn't exactly amongst friends. Finally the vehicle stopped and a liveried man stepped forward to open the door. Anomen climbed out of the carriage first, and turned, stretching out a hand to assist Lila, and then Jen.

They followed the flow of guests into the house and soon found themselves standing in a wide hallway with large rooms opening off of either side. Jen heard the sounds of music and laughter wafting towards her from the room at the end of the hall. She glanced at her companions who nodded and then followed her towards the back of the house. Jen paused at the entrance of the large ballroom, feeling her stomach clench again. She unconsciously moved closer to Anomen who responded with a brotherly arm squeeze before shouldering his way through the crowd at the door.

Lila, following behind more slowly, began looking around the room, searching for someone. Her eyes scanned the couples swaying and twirling past them and then went to the edges of the room where she finally caught sight of her friend Erinna and headed towards her, Jen and Anomen trailing behind.

“Oh good, you're here!” Erinna said, turning with a smile as they came up to her, “Although I'm surprised to see you here, Anomen.  Where's Ian?  I thought he was coming with you?"

"Business," Lila replied shortly. "Lord Anomen graciously agreed to escort us in his place. Are the Roenalls here yet?"

"Yes. The Roenalls arrived some time ago." 

Lila smiled in return, “I'm glad to hear it and I must thank you for tonight's invitation. I don't know how Jen and I would have been able to meet Nalia publicly without your help.”

Erinna nodded and said, “Think nothing of it. Lady Roenall and my mother have been friends for years and they are together now. Nalia is with them as well.” She leaned forward conspiratorially and whispered, “I _must_ tell you that the Roenalls brought a most _IN-turesting_ man with them. Tall, blonde and very handsome! And the way he looks at Nalia…. I wonder if he knows she's handfasted to Isaea….”

Anomen rolled his eyes at this bit of information and Jen's lips twitched with amusement as she wondered whether it really _had_ been such a good idea to bring him along after all. She suspected that Erinna's ‘blonde man’ was actually Haer'Dalis in disguise. She certainly hoped it was, for she realized that even given all her doubts, she'd missed his company for the last few days. The thought of him caused her heart to beat a little faster and she started forward eagerly, catching at Anomen's arm. “C'mon, let's go find Nalia.”

Anomen didn't move but instead drew a deep breath, planting his feet more firmly on the marble floor. “Wait,” he said, “I _can't_ go with you. I am known to the Roenalls and if Isaea is here, he'll know that Tristan hasn't left Athkatla. Even if he's not here, if his parents see me, he'll find out and he'll know we're up to something.”

Jen made a face. “Good point,” she replied. “Well, I know you didn't want to come tonight for that very reason, but I must go as my part is to make contact with Nalia.” She brightened, “But I'm sure you must recognize others here that don't know you're traveling with Tristan. Why don't you look around and see if you can pick up the local gossip?”

A look of discomfort crossed his face, “I fail to see the point of listening to gossip. That's more in Haer'Dalis's line than mine, I fear,” he replied.

“I know,” she replied comfortingly thinking of his reaction to Erinna's chatter about the 'blonde man,' “but you _did_ agree to escort us, even knowing that things could get sticky. And as to picking up gossip…well, it's always useful to know what others are saying – you never know when it might come in handy. And I'm actually rather curious as to what people are saying about the Roenalls right now.”

He nodded slowly and turning, headed across the room. Jen watched for a moment as his broad back disappeared into the crowd, then turned to Lila and Erinna saying, “Shall we go?”

The three women threaded their way through the scattered groups of guests, heading for a pair of older couples standing near a cluster of tables at one end of the room. Jen suspected the group must be Erinna's parents and Lord and Lady Roenall. Her guess was confirmed as she recognized Nalia standing nearby although she was disappointed to see no sign of the “blonde man” mentioned earlier. Erinna stopped next to an elegant older woman dressed in a lovely shade of midnight blue. “Hello Mother,” she said.

“Hello, dear. Who have you brought with you? Oh, hello Lila.”

The rest of the party glanced at the newcomers but said nothing in welcome. Jen noticed the man, whom she assumed was Lord Roenall, look at Lila and then look away while the woman next to him stared about her with a look of open disdain.

Erinna ignored them, and introduced Jen to her mother. “This is Jenessa Griffith from Tradesmeet; she's a cousin.

Lady Skytower looked Jen over with interest. “It's a pleasure to meet you, my dear. And let me introduce you to my friends, Lord and Lady Roenall and their daughter-in-law Nalia.”

 _Daughter-in-law?_ Jen felt her body stiffen slightly, then relaxed as she remembered Keldorn's description of the handfasting agreement. _Of course. It was like a marriage, except for the final ceremony._ She relaxed hoping her initial feeling of surprise hadn't shown on her face. She nodded cordially, “It's a pleasure to meet you. But Nalia and I are already acquainted.” She smiled slighted as Nalia turned questioning eyes on her, “We met several years ago. _Don't you remember, Nalia?_ ”

“Uh…yes, of course. How nice to see you again after all this time!”

Jen smiled back, “Yes, it is nice to see you again.”

Lady Roenall looked at Jen suspiciously, “Nalia my dear, I don't believe I've heard you mention Miss Griffith before. Where did you meet her?”

We -we met when I accompanied father to Tradesmeet to visit Mother's aunt, Genevieve Paxnall. You _do_ remember when I traveled with my family to Tradesmeet don't you?”

“Yes, of course,” replied Lady Roenall. She still looked suspicious. “I just don't recall you mentioning that you'd met anyone.”

“I don't recall telling you anything at all about the trip,” replied Nalia. “After all, I was quite young then, and my activities at that time were of little interest to you.”

Lady Roenall looked sternly at Nalia, a look which she visibly tried to soften as she realized that others were staring, “As you say, my dear, the activities of a small child were not of much interest.” She turned to Lila, “And speaking of cousins, I wasn't aware that you had any cousins living in Tradesmeet.”

Lila looked back at her, “I don't, but my husband does.” She smiled sweetly. “Jen's coming to us was rather a surprise, but then life is full of surprises, isn't it?”

Lady Skytower responded with a chuckle. “She's got you there, Bella. These girls are _always_ full of surprises. Why Erinna amazes me constantly; particularly whenever I try to introduce her to an eligible man. She never likes the ones I think are suitable.”

“Mother,” said Erinna with a sigh, “Do we have to discuss that topic again? And here?”

Nalia shook her head slightly at the Skytowers and then looked at Jen, “It's awfully hot isn't it? I'd like something to drink.” She looked at Lady Roenall, “Would you mind if Jen and I went to find something? We have so much to catch up on and we won't be long.”

Yes, do let them go Bella,” interjected Lady Skytower. “I'm sure they have much to talk about after all these years.”

Lady Roenall didn't respond at first, but finally nodded a grudging assent, “A short chat, my dear and then you must return, for there are a number of rather important people whom you should meet tonight.”

The two young women left the group, strolling across the room arm in arm. “Shall we find someplace to sit?” asked Jen. Nalia nodded and led her towards a series of tall curtained windows along the far wall. After snagging two glasses of wine from the nearest footman, she handed one to Jen and then tweaked one of the curtains back, peering behind it to see if the window alcove was occupied.

It was empty except for a couple of chairs. Jen sat down on the closest one cautiously so as not to crush the green silk of her borrowed gown, saying, “I'm _so_ glad to see you, Nalia! So much has happened since you were taken.” She gave Nalia a quick sketch of the group's activities since the night Isaea had kidnapped her ending with, “and I think we're nearly ready to force the Roenalls to sign the agreement. You'll be free of them forever! All you have to do is pretend to go along with _their_ plans for a while longer.”

Nalia giggled, “I knew you would find a way! Isaea said all of you had left Athkatla, but I just knew he was wrong.” An odd look crossed her face and she added, “But I must tell you something. I think Lord Farrington is in trouble again because he brought a man with us tonight. The man been paying quite a bit of attention to me and no one has said a _single word_ about it. I think that's rather strange because they've not let anyone except Isaea near me in the past few days. Don't you think it odd?” Her face flushed slightly as she added, “At least he's a nice man – he tells such stories and he's _so_ handsome.”

“Oh? Tell me about him,” Jen replied.

“Well, he seems well traveled….and _interested_ in helping other people.” She paused for a moment, looking shyly at Jen, “You know that helping others is important to me. And to meet someone else who feels the same way! You know, I might even learn to like _Isaea_ if he were more like Aidan.” Nalia's eyes sparkled as she went on to describe the man in more detail. Jen looked at her with mild amusement. _Aidan D'Asturias._ That was the name Haer'Dalis had said he would use. Then a stray thought struck her. Nalia was falling for Haer'Dalis – a being she ordinarily barely tolerated! As she listened to Nalia's chatter, Jen tried to keep her expression neutral, all the while wondering what would happen when Nalia learned the truth.

They chatted on, only to be surprised a short time later by the sudden opening of the curtain. Jen looked up to see a tall man standing in front of them. _Haery?_ He glanced at her briefly and then turned to Nalia.

“Ah, here you are, Nalia. Lady Roenall is nigh sick with worry and sent me searching. You've been gone for some time.”

Nalia looked startled, “But Aidan, Jen and I have only been gone a few minutes!”

“I beg to differ for according to our gracious hostess, you and your charming friend,” he finally looked more fully at Jen, “have been gone nearly three quarters of an hour. I am here to serve as your escort and bring you safely back to your party.”

Nalia took a deep breath and stood up. “Then we must return to them. Jen? Will you join us?” Jen nodded and rose as well. She looked questioningly at Nalia and then at the newcomer standing in front of them. Finally Nalia took the hint, exclaiming, “Oh, how rude of me! I haven't introduced the two of you!” before going on to make the necessary introductions. Jen noticed Aidan D'Asturia's eyes twinkling as he bowed over her hand and she returned his amused gaze with one of her own.

As the evening went on, Lady Skytower took it upon herself to introduce Jen to any number of “nice young men” all of whom seemed to be in dire need of dance partners. Breathing a brief prayer to whatever gods were listening, Jen joined the twirling crowds out on the dance floor. Fortunately, Lila had insisted upon showing her some of the latest ballroom dances that very afternoon and she had found them not dissimilar from those of Earth. Nalia also danced with several of the young men, but Jen noticed that Aidan D'Asturias appeared to be her favorite partner. For his own part, Aidan appeared to be completely absorbed in Nalia, a fact that entertained Jen at first, but then annoyed her as she began to feel that his attentions were moving beyond the bounds of consummate acting. After seething in silence for short time, she decided she'd be better off leaving the party before her feelings prompted her into an action that would undoubtedly spoil both the evening and their plans.

Determined to find Lila and ask to go home, she headed across the room after the dance ended in the direction where she’d last seen Lila. Her dance partner hurried after, squawking that he _must_ escort her back to the Roenall party for propriety's sake. She ignored him and continued to move forward. However, upon reaching her destination, she found that Lila was nowhere to be found.

“Now that we've found your friend is not here, will you _please_ allow me to take you back to Lady Skytower?” her dance partner begged.

Jen tightened her lips and did not reply. She looked around and then caught sight of Anomen standing in an adjoining room in the midst of a crowd of young women, all of whom appeared to be chattering at him in an animated fashion. He had a rather trapped look on his face – _like a deer in the headlights,_ she thought, _I should go to his rescue._ She tried to excuse herself but her unfortunate escort, determined to do things properly, insisted upon scurrying after her.

As she drew near, Anomen looked up, an expression of intense relief spreading across his face. He bounded forward, holding out a hand in greeting. She took it with a smile. Turning to the young man hovering behind her, she said formally, “Thank you for the dance. You needn't worry about me further for you have fulfilled your obligations by returning me to Lord Anomen who is a member of my party.”

The young man nodded politely and hurried away, clearly glad, at this point, to be rid of her. Anomen took her arm and turned to the group of young women. He bowed to them, saying, “I thank you all for your concern regarding my family and I know that Moira would also have appreciated your thoughts. I have enjoyed talking with you; however, it appears my party is looking for me, so I must go.”

With a rush of birdlike chatter, the group took their leave, fluttering away in a cloud of pastel cottons and silks. “Friends of Moira's,” he said by way of explanation, “They feel sorry for me. Want to make me feel better.”

“I'll _bet_ they do!” Jen said, a grin spreading across her face. Flushing slightly, Anomen firmly steered her towards the door heading into the garden, stepping into the cool night air with a sigh. “I didn't think I'd ever be rid of them. And it's so hot in there. Do you mind walking a bit?”

“I don't think I should be out here alone with you,” Jen murmured. “Bad for both our reputations. And whatever will your Order say?”

Anomen shook his head, grinning at her, “The Order would not approve, but I'd rather face a fire-breathing dragon than go back in there and face those women again.” He headed down the closest garden pathway.

“That's all very well, but _I_ must sit down soon,” she replied following after him, “my feet are killing me. How Athkatlan women walk all day and dance all night in these flimsy shoes is beyond me.”

Anomen glanced around, spotting a bench along the pathway. He headed towards it with Jen trailing along behind him. Upon reaching it, she sank gratefully onto the seat and he sat down beside her.

“Give me your feet,” he said.

“What?” she exclaimed, “Are you nuts?

“Not at all,” he replied calmly. “There's no one out here to see. Put your feet up on my lap. The elevation will make them feel better and the swelling will go down. When Moira was alive, she'd dance until she could no longer stand and this used to help her.”

Feeling slightly foolish, Jen placed her feet onto Anomen's knees and leaned back on the bench. They talked in a desultory fashion for a short time; Jen alert for the slightest sound that would indicate the arrival of someone else in the garden. When no one appeared, she began to relax, allowing the night air to flow soothingly around her. She sat quietly, unaware of how tired she truly felt until a huge yawn overcame her.

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed sitting up abruptly. “I'm going to have to go in or I'll fall asleep and _then_ our reputations really _will_ be ruined.” She rose, shaking out her skirts and was pleasantly surprised to find her feet were no longer throbbing, “Thank you,” she exclaimed happily, “that really did help!”

“Think nothing of it,” he replied, offering his arm to her.  They began to move back towards the house. As they approached the ballroom entrance, a dark figure stepped into the light.

“This seems to be my evening for locating missing ladies,” drawled a pleasant tenor voice, and Jen looked up to see Aidan D'Asturia looking down at her. “I've been sent in pursuit of you, for my party is about to leave and Nalia wants to see you again. I had feared finding you would be a challenge, but in fact, I see it was too easy a quest, for here you are already!”

“Quite,” she agreed and turning to Anomen, said, ”If you're ready, I'd like to leave also, Would you mind locating Lila and asking if she's ready as well? I'll just go with Mr. D'Asturias to say good-bye to Nalia.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Go on. I'll be fine.” When he didn't move, she waved her hands at him, shooing him away, “Anomen, _please_ go find Lila.” He turned hesitantly, disinclined to leave her with a stranger, but finally moved off through the crowd to locate their companion. Jen turned to Aidan and found him watching Anomen's departure with narrowed eyes. Grimacing slightly, she cleared her throat to gain his attention and then said, “Shall we be off to find the Roenalls then?”

He glanced down at her and slowly his expression cleared. “Of course,” he responded politely, offering her his arm. She took it and was surprised when he didn't immediately move. She stared up at him, “Er, Haer…ah, Aidan? Mr. D'Asturias?”

“Aidan will do,” he replied, still staring after Anomen. She noticed his eyes appeared to be moving in a rather unusual way although they didn't change color; a change she was beginning to associate with tension and stress. _I guess whatever illusionary spell he's under prevents that._

“Shall we go in?” she asked again.

“Certainly,” he replied calmly and then said abruptly, “What is _Anomen_ doing here?”

“Why shouldn't he be here?”

“No particular reason, except that I wonder at the amount of time the two of you seem to be spending together these days.”

She looked up at him in surprise and replied, “He's here as our escort; mine and Lila's. Her husband was going to come, but he was called away on last minute business.”

“Oh. I **_see_** ** _,_** ” he replied. She heard the cynical note in his voice and felt herself growing annoyed.

“Right _. What_ do you see? Or rather, what is it that you _think_ you see?”

“What do I _see?_ Perhaps, my Kestrel, what you _intend_ me to see; Anomen and yourself constantly in company.”

 _Why is Haery being so goddamned dense about this?_ she thought, saying out loud in an annoyed sounding voice, “Are you suggesting I'm _attracted_ to Anomen?” He looked at her, not saying anything, but his silence provided her with the answer. _He doesn't trust me!_ Anger flashed through her like a jolt of electricity, spurring her to say spitefully, “Well then, let me tell _you_ something; Anomen's a very attractive man and I’m beginning to like him very much.” She stopped, watching his expression darken and then added, “But for your information, I'm not interested in him in _that_ way. I remind him of his little sister and he reminds _me_ of my big brother - that's all!”

She then remembered her feelings on seeing Nalia with Aidan/Haer'Dalis and continued, “And while we're on the subject, why don't you tell me just what is going on between Nalia and you? And don't try for one red-hot minute, _Monsieur Looove,_ to tell me you're just playing a role. It seemed to be a lot more than that – not only to me, but also to Nalia. And for that matter, if _you_ were going to make contact with Nalia, why was _I_ needed?”

“I didn't _plan_ to contact her when I began, but necessity forced me to improvise… as any good actor would under the circumstances!” he replied testily. They stood still, glaring at each other. Then a loud guffaw from the direction of the ballroom brought them back to reality. Aidan looked at Jen and shook his head, before saying with a rueful grin, “Lord, what fools these mortals be!”[1]

She raised an eyebrow, “I beg your pardon?”

“I was thinking of myself.  'Tis foolish of me, I know, but I cannot bear to see you with _him,_ Jen. To think of what he might be doing…saying.…”

“You'll have to trust me, Haery,” she said firmly. She looked down at the ground. “As I must trust you.”

He nodded slowly, “Yes.”

He took her hand, raising it to his lips before tucking it under his arm and leading her back into the ballroom where they soon found the Roenalls. Jen went over to Nalia. “When can we meet again?”

Nalia smiled, “Why not day after tomorrow? Come in the afternoon – we'll be home.”

“Alright,” said Jen, smiling in return.  She spotted Lila and Anomen near the door and made her farewell before heading towards them and out of the house.

The ride home was uneventful. Jen, drooping with exhaustion, listened with only half an ear as Lila gossiped comfortably about the party. She found herself dozing as they first dropped off Anomen and then continued to the _Iron Rose Inn._

As the carriage stopped, Jen thanked Lila and prepared to step out. However, Lila put a hand on her arm, preventing her.

“Just a minute, Jen. Did I hear you making plans to visit Nalia?”

Jen mumbled agreement and Lila continued, “Then we must think about appearances. I should have thought of this earlier actually.  A young lady doesn't stay alone in a public inn; at least without an entourage and a maid. And a wealthy young lady wouldn't travel across town by foot. I think you'd better plan to stay with me until you've freed her.”

Jen nodded sleepily and mumbled, “That's probably true. Let me sleep on it. I'll talk with you tomorrow when I'm a bit more awake.” Lila nodded and Jen turned to exit the carriage.

She entered the inn and stumbled up to her room, pausing only long enough to carefully remove and hang the borrowed dress before toppling into bed and floating off to sleep.

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act iii. Sc. 2.


	25. Conciliation

_I've got you under my skin._   
_I've got you deep in the heart of me.  
So deep in my heart that you're really a part of me.  
I've got you under my skin.  
I'd tried so not to give in.  
I said to myself: this affair never will go so well.  
But why should I try to resist when, baby,  
I know so well I've got you under my skin? _

_I'd sacrifice anything come what might  
For the sake of havin' you near  
In spite of a warnin' voice that comes in the night  
And repeats, repeats in my ear:  
Don't you know, little fool, you never can win?  
Use your mentality, wake up to reality.  
But each time that I do just the thought of you  
Makes me stop before I begin '  
Cause I've got you under my skin.[ **[i]**](../#_edn1) _

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

She awakened to the sound of knocking on the door of her room.

“Jen! Jen, are you awake?”

“Of course I'm awake,” she replied irritably, trying to place the voice. A familiar smell wafted under the door and she sat up, rubbing her eyes. Then everything clicked into place and she shot out of bed.

“Haery? Is that you? Give me a minute,” she said, hurriedly amending her unclothed state. She went to the basin in the room's corner to quickly wash her face and run damp fingers through her hair before going to open the door.

Haer'Dalis stood in the hallway; a scullion next to him, holding a small tray containing a teapot and cup. Jen noticed immediately however, that the smell emanating from the pot was not tea. She breathed in deeply. _Coffee._

“Haery!” she exclaimed happily, “What is _this?_ Where could you possibly have gotten coffee?”

He grinned at her, “As to your first question, 'tis a peace offering.  Our conversation last night reminded me of how sadly I've neglected you these past few days my lovely Kestrel and I wish to make amends.  And as to the second, I have an acquaintance; an importer of the exotic who recently made a trip to Zakhara where this is grown.” He entered the room, motioning to the boy to place the tray on a small table near the window. Jen waited until the scullion left the room, then eagerly poured herself a cup of the rich-smelling brew and took a slow sip. _Heaven._

She seated herself on the window’s broad low sill, from where she smiled happily at him, “You have no idea how much I've missed this. But you only brought one cup. Don't you want to try it?”

His nose wrinkled in an expression of distaste, “I already have and I must confess I don't understand the appeal. However, my associate assures me that it tastes just as it should.” He fell silent, but his eyes lingered on her face observing her obvious enjoyment of his gift.

She sipped quietly for a few minutes and then looked over at Haer’Dalis, “I'm glad to see you.”   _And yeah, especially after last night._   “And I want to thank you for the lovely flower and poem you left me.”  She sighed, “I know you warned me but it seems like there's been no time to talk lately. Do you have to go see Lord Roenall today?”

“I'm pleased to have been missed.  As to Lord Roenall, I've reached a rather crucial point in our little plan since he owes me a considerable sum and has asked me to give him some time to gather his resources. I've given him until tomorrow.” He grinned, “Although I've made quite sure he'll be unable to pay and will be forced to accept my proposed alternative.”

“Which is…?”

“In exchange for erasing his debt of honor, I've asked him to release Nalia from her agreement to marry Isaea and give her to me instead.” He chuckled, “Yes indeed, a rich wife will settle the debt nicely.”

She looked at him in surprise, the coffee turning into an acid pool in her stomach. “Marry her? Have you talked to Nalia about this?”

“Not in so many words, but I think she is intrigued by Aidan D'Asturias and will not object; particularly if it means gaining a husband more complaisant than Isaea.”

“I see,” Jen said woodenly. Her mind went back to the Skytower party. What had Nalia said about Haery aka Aidan? _He seems… interested_ _in helping others. You know_ _that helping others is important to me. And to meet someone else who feels the same way!_

Putting her cup carefully back on the tray, Jen looked over at Haery, “And do you intend to let Nalia know that Aidan and Haer'Dalis are one and the same?”

“Not until the Roenalls release her. I think her part will come to her more naturally if she doesn't know the truth.”

“Mmmmm.”  She'd asked him about his feelings for Nalia the previous night. And as she remembered the exchange she suddenly realized that her question had never been fully answered.  And it was true he'd seemed upset about her budding friendship with Anomen, but perhaps that too had simply been a well-acted role. ““Well,” she said, “I wish you every happiness." She spoke slowly, attempting to keep her tone casual, "And since I'm going to visit Nalia soon, tell me how I can best further your cause.”

Something in her tone made him look at her sharply. “What's the matter, Jen?”

“Nothing,” she replied.  She struggled to smile and maintain an expression of polite but neutral interest although her stomach was churning rapidly.

He shook his head. “The way you’re looking at me says ‘tis something.”  He looked at her a moment longer, studying her. Then he smiled somewhat smugly, reaching out to put a hand under her chin and tilt her face towards him.  “ _Ah_ _Jen_. 'Tis not what you think. My feelings for Nalia are no more than for any other member of our party, your own sweet self excluded of course.  I have _no_ desire to establish a permanent connection with Nalia, nor will I do so – the offer I made to Lord Roenall is a ruse – nothing else. It simply is part of the role I'm playing.”

She nodded and leaned back, hoping that the fervent relief sweeping through her did not show on her face. “If only you didn't play the part so _well._ And what about poor Nalia? How do you think she's going to feel when she finds out Aidan is really you? She won't be pleased. In fact,” she added sardonically, “you might want to start memorizing a _Protection from Magical Weapons_ spell just in case!”

He grinned ruefully, “You're right.  'Twas not well done of me and perhaps ‘twill be necessary to make amends. But of more concern to me at present is whether _you'll_ forgive my lack of attention these past few days.”

“I'll think about it,” she said and picked up her coffee cup, looking at him thoughtfully as she processed his words and her own feelings. _I care more than I'd like to admit. And I notice he hasn’t said anything about Anomen._ She gave herself a mental shake. _Honestly, why does this seem so complicated? It doesn’t have to be._

With that in mind, she finished her coffee and gave an ecstatic sigh, “I have to admit your peace-offering was inspired. You have no idea what it's like to have coffee again. And such excellent coffee too.”

His lips quirked good humouredly as he replied, “So, this is all the thanks I am to receive for such a noble effort?” His face acquired an expression of exaggerated sorrow, “You've injured me sorely, love. To think you prefer coffee to my…company. It makes me feel quite insignificant. Surely you can do better than this.” He looked at her expectantly.

Amused, she put down the cup and went over to slide into his waiting arms for a kiss. “Better?” she inquired a few moments later as they stopped to catch their breath.

“An improvement,” he admitted, “but the slight still stings. Perhaps another attempt at healing is in order.”

“Well, I do have a first aid certificate, but I don't recall this technique being recommended for use on someone who's actually _breathing_ ,” she said, reaching up to kiss him again. The kiss deepened into something more serious and he pulled her closer, sliding his hands under her shirt to caress the bare skin of her back. As she felt herself beginning to respond to his touch, she thought, _Am I ready for this?_

For a moment, doubt surged in her mind only to be swept aside as he drew back slightly, and looked down at her. “Don't doubt this bard's feelings for you, Jen,” he said rather huskily. “His heart beats only because you will it so.” As she kissed him again, she noticed rather abstractedly that the markings on his skin seemed to be growing darker and more pronounced.  The pressure of his mouth on hers was intoxicating, drawing her in until what little thought she had left – rational or otherwise – vanished completely.  Her hands of their own volition moved up and around his neck and he drew her towards the bed.

Just then, a knock sounded at the door. Lost to rational thought, they ignored it and continued their amorous activity. The knocking didn't stop however, and was soon followed by a familiar voice.

“Jen! I _know_ you're in there, I can hear you moving about!”

Jen rolled back onto the pillow, whispering to Haery, _“She's not going to quit, is she?”_ He shook his head in exasperation. Taking a deep breath, Jen turned her head towards the door calling, “Go away Tristan, I'm busy!”

“Alright, but I have some news and need to talk with you. Which reminds me, I also need to talk with Haer'Dalis. He's not in his room - have you seen him?”

“ _He's_ _with_ _ me_,” Jen replied, her voice decidedly frosty.

 _“Oh.”_ The monosyllabic response was fraught with embarrassment. After a moment of silence, Tristan said, “I'll see you later then.” This was followed by more silence punctuated by the sound of footsteps moving away from the door.

Jen and Haer'Dalis lay still and then began to laugh as the humor of the situation struck them. They tried to pick up where they'd left off but within a few minutes it became clear that the interruption and certain knowledge that Tristan was waiting had dampened their ardor for the moment.

“It seems the fates would deny us this pleasure for now, my love.”

Jen nodded and untangled herself, moving to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. Haer'Dalis followed suit, putting his arm around her. She dropped her head onto his shoulder, saying, “God, it’s always something.” Finally she rose, going back to the table to pick up her coffee. “I guess this _will_ have to do after all.”

They left the room together soon afterwards and made their way down to the common room where Tristan was found sitting and writing a note.

As they approached, she made a face at them; a mixture of embarrassment and apology, “I'm sorry.”

Jen nodded, but Haer'Dalis said, “'Tis forgiven, my Raven. Don't think about it further. Come, give us your news.”

In response, Tristan handed him a slim leather case. He opened it and began to read. Jen glanced over his shoulder for a minute and then looked at Tristan. “It's the legal agreement to end Nalia's handfasting, isn't it?”

Tristan nodded and said, “It's just a matter of time now. Whenever Haer’Dalis and you are ready.  Did you see Nalia last night?”

“Yes,” he replied, “We both did. For my part, I plan to visit Lord Roenall tomorrow since he asked for some time in which to either gather his resources or make up his mind to release Nalia. I suspect he'll do neither, but will probably try to leave town. However, I imagine he'll find this rather difficult given that your friend Yoshimo has thoughtfully arranged to have the family watched and will contact me should there be any attempted change in residence.

Tristan grinned hugely at this. “I wouldn't want to be _your_ enemy, Haer'Dalis.”

They chatted about the Roenalls and possible plans for a few minutes longer and then Tristan said, “I'll be glad to bring this business to a close. However, Nalia is not the only reason I came to see you this morning.”

They looked at her inquiringly and she went on, “It's Anomen. He's been called for his test.”

“What does he have to do?” asked Jen

“Well,” replied Tristan, “According to Keldorn, tonight he must stand a vigil. Once that is completed, he'll be taken to the Order's Prelate for judgment. Anomen has asked that we witness his judgment tomorrow. He feels quite strongly about it, in fact.”

“What about Haery's meeting with Lord Roenall?” asked Jen.

Tristan nodded thoughtfully, “Yes that may be a problem. I think Anomen's test is in the morning, but I don't know that he'll be able to leave the temple for most of the day. But that doesn't prevent the rest of us from visiting the Roenalls although perhaps it will be later in the day than originally planned.”

“Well,” said Jen, glancing at Haer'Dalis, a smile creeping across her face, “I guess we'll just have to improvise.”

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

The rest of the morning passed pleasantly and Jen soon found herself walking across town beside Haer'Dalis, who carried a small bag containing some clothing and other essentials. Although she did not particularly want to stay with Lila, she had given some thought to the proposal, eventually realizing the sensibility of the suggestion. They covered the distance to the O'Brion residence in short order and soon found themselves standing at the door.

“I really don't want go in,” she said, reaching up to touch Haer'Dalis's cheek.

He smiled down at her reassuringly, “Nor do I want to leave you but it will only be for a short time, my Kestrel. We'll not be parted long.”

“Given what you said to Tristan, it seems to me that you'll have things wrapped up tomorrow afternoon so it appears rather silly for me to change my residence at this point or even be involved in any of this.”

“Appearances, my lovely Kestrel.  Your presence helps maintain the illusion of normalcy and it will be far easier for Nalia to leave in your company than in mine even given a signed agreement.  As to changing your residence, you should have been here last night. After all, 'tis all part of the role you've undertaken. But be patient, this play has nearly reached its end and the actors will soon take their bows.”

She nodded and reluctantly knocked on the door that was opened almost immediately by an excited Aoife. “You're here, Jen! I can't believe you're going to stay with us!” the child cried.

Jen smiled down at her obvious enthusiasm and then turned to Haery, “I’ll be at Nalia’s tomorrow as well. So I’ll see Aidan there I guess?”

“While Aidan will make an appearance, ‘twill be for the purpose of doing business with Lord Roenall, not to pay a social call,” he replied. “For that would serve no purpose other than to upset the both of us, given that my attentions must be directed towards her rather than where I would want them to be.”

“True.” she said with a smile. And taking the case from him, she turned and followed Aoife into the house. 

* * *

[[i]](../#_ednref1) Basie Orchestra; Prime Artist: Frank Sinatra, Written by: Cole Porter (C. Albert P.),From the Film: _Born To Dance,_ 1936

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Basie Orchestra; Prime Artist: Frank Sinatra, Written by: Cole Porter (C. Albert P.),From the Film: Born To Dance, 1936


	26. Judgment

The next morning found Jen standing in the Radiant Heart Temple with Haer'Dalis, Tristan and Jaheira. Keldorn was not with them, having chosen to be with Anomen throughout his vigil and his test. Several well dressed Athkatlans were standing nearby and from the snippets of overheard conversation, she gathered they were Anomen's friends and family, come to witness the judgment which would determine his fitness for knighthood. 

She found herself fidgeting in an attempt to keep warm and finally began looking around curiously to distract herself from the coldness of the room. On her previous visit, Keldorn had taken her into the library via a side door, so this was the first time she'd seen the main hall of the Order’s Temple. It was a large, high-ceilinged room hung adorned with large and intricately carved moldings sparkling with gold paint and hung with brilliant red banners. The center of the hall held several huge white marble pillars around a medium-sized interior court.  One end of the inner quad, an enormous statute towered over a symbol of the Radiant Heart embedded in the marble floor.

Jen stared at the statue thoughtfully. She was not overly religious, but something about the place inspired reverence and before too long, she bowed her head, muttering a silent, brief prayer for Anomen's success to whatever Gods might be listening. The back of her neck prickled slightly and glancing sideways she saw Haer'Dalis watching her, a sardonic smile drifting across his lips. She wrinkled her nose at him before turning to look around the room once again. 

Their wait ended as a pair of knights came forward, ushering them to places along one side of the room. She suddenly felt nervous although she couldn’t have said precisely why and looked around to see that Tristan, too appeared mildly apprehensive. There was no time to say anything however for a trumpet call rang out, signaling the beginning of the ceremony and from somewhere behind the assembly, large doors opened, giving entrance to a procession of knights in full regalia. An older man in armor; the Order's head, or so she assumed, led the procession and the crowd rose to its feet as he passed. The knights followed, arranging themselves in long rows on either side of the statute as the trumpets fell silent and the leader –Anomen and Keldorn had referred to him in other conversations as the ‘Prelate’ - raised his hands, bowing to the statue before turning to the crowd.

“We are here today to witness the testing of Anomen Delryn. May he be found worthy,” he cried in a booming voice.

“May he be found worthy,” chanted the knights.

“Please bring the candidate forward!”

The rear door opened again and this time Anomen entered the room, escorted by Keldorn and an unknown knight. The two escorts were clad in shining plate mail, but Anomen wore a white robe, belted in gold, along with a scarlet cloak and golden spurs. Jen puzzled over this for a minute and them remembered her history lessons. If her memory was correct, Earth's medieval knights had worn a white robe to represent purity of heart, a red cloak to symbolize their duty to shed blood and spurs to prod and remind them of what was owed to God. _I wonder if it's the same here?_

“Anomen Delryn, son of Cor and Moirala,” the Prelate's voice boomed out as Anomen came to a stop in front of him, “do you stand before me pledged to the service of justice? Do you stand before me pledged to the service of righteousness?"

"Prelate Wesselen", Anomen replied, "I do so stand. I pledge my life to the service of justice and righteousness."

The Prelate's voice droned on, the rhythmic flow of the ritual words he spoke punctuated by Anomen's quiet responses. Finally, she heard the litany's closing.

"May the spirit of Torm enter this chamber! May my Judgment be unclouded. Welcome to this place, Anomen. Is there aught that you would say before we begin?"

Anomen gazed earnestly at the Prelate. "Thank you," he said, "I would like to say that all of my life I have dreamed of this day, and becoming a knight is the culmination of those dreams. I pray that the privilege of knighthood will be granted to me.” He took a deep breath adding, “I am ready, Prelate. Judge me as you have been judged."

The Prelate fell silent, bowed in prayer before the giant statue. Suddenly light shown all around him and a single clear tone sounded. He rose; a look of utter peace and joy on his face. “Anomen Delryn, you have been tested and found worthy. Come forward and kneel before me.”

Anomen strode forward, his face aglow and knelt down in front of the Prelate. A tall, black-haired knight went towards them bearing a golden sword on a velvet pillow and presented it to Wesselen. The Prelate took up the sword, lightly tapping Anomen on both shoulders as he continued the age-old ritual, “As a knight of the Radiant Heart dost thou swear that thou whilst will never lie and will always remain faithful to thy pledged word, and that thou shalt be everywhere and always the champion of Right and Good against Injustice and Evil?”

Gazing steadfastly forward, Anomen replied, “I do so swear.”

“Then in the Torm's name, I dub you Sir Anomen Delryn. Be brave, be courteous and be loyal.”

Smiling, Prelate Wesselen returned the sword to its resting-place and raised him up, “Sir Anomen, from this day forward you are a knight of the Radiant Heart. Go forth, my son, in righteousness.”

The trumpets burst out once again, this time in a triumphal chorus and Anomen, followed by his escorts, left the room in a processional. The ceremony was over.

Jen turned to see Tristan beaming although her eyes were filled with tears and reached out to give her a comforting squeeze. “He did it!” Jen whispered. The two women hugged each other happily.

Anomen reappeared some time later, having exchanged the white robe for his more customary armor. Several of the guests pounced on him and Jen overheard phrases like, “Wonderful m'boy!” and “Moirala would have been _so_ proud!” She and the others of Tristan's party stood to one side as he made the rounds of friends and relatives. However, as soon as he was decently able to free himself from their congratulations, he came over to them, stopping almost shyly beside Tristan. They stared at each other for a couple seconds and then he reached out just as she moved forward. She fell into his arms and the others watched with amusement as the pair embraced hungrily. Then Jen saw Keldorn come out of a room at the back and head towards them. Haer'Dalis saw him too and coughed loudly in warning giving Tristan and Anomen time to break apart, blushing furiously.

Keldorn, however chose to ignore their lack of decorum, only saying as he drew near, “A truly joyful occasion is it not my friends?”

They smiled at his enthusiasm and Tristan, recovering her composure replied, “Yes Keldorn, it's a wonderful day! Are you and Anomen now ready to return to us?”

“No,” he replied, “For Anomen must spend more time here today, meeting with the Prelate and Sir Ryan Trawl. I will return to you shortly, but at the moment I'm off to consult with Maria for this momentous occasion needs be celebrated.”

“Of course, Keldorn,” said Tristan. “How kind of you and your wife. So when is this celebration to take place?” She smiled up at Anomen as she spoke and he returned her look warmly.

“I must consult with my beloved wife, but I believe it will take place within the next few days. I'll have more news for you shortly,” he replied and took his farewell.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Soon afterwards, Jen was walking towards Lila's house, reliving the splendor of the ceremony in her mind. Beside her, Haer'Dalis was equally quiet. They walked on together for a short time, each lost in his thoughts. Finally Jen broke the silence, “That was really quite a beautiful event, didn't you think so?”

Haer'Dalis shrugged. “'Tis a rite like any other. But it did put me in mind of my own initiation into the Doomguard.”

Glancing over at him, she said, “Was it similar to this?”

He considered the question carefully before answering. Finally he said, “'Twas not _dissimilar,_ for those desiring membership in the Doomguard are also tested. Unlike this ceremony, however, a prospective Doomguard is examined rather publicly.”

“Hmmmm…so what are they? The tests, I mean. What do you have to do?”

“Well, first I had to break one of my own weapons against the walls of the Armory. The choice of weapon is considered most important for it is, after all, supposed to symbolize a break with one's former life. The sword I sacrificed was my favorite at the time and it pained me greatly to lose it. However, since the Doomguard make some of the best weapons in the Multiverse and give every new member a sword and the training to go with it, ‘twas truly not so bad in the end.”

“Ah. So what else did you do?”

 “The second test is essentially a public display of entropy. To pass it, I had to travel to one of the poorer locations in Sigil and scatter at least five hundred silver coins on the ground.”

 Jen grinned. Her voice took on a teasing note as she said, “I had no idea the Doomguard were so…charitable.”

 He laughed. “'Tis really more of a test of survival instincts –both for the candidate who is scattering coins as well as for those trying to collect it since the event usually causes a public riot. But 'tis easy compared to the third ritual. To pass it, one must prevent the Lady of Pain’s personal guard – the Dabus[[1]](http://archiveofourown.org/works/150647/chapters/#_edn1) \- from trimming the razorvine on a single building for a full day. Nearly every building on Sigil has razorvine growing on it. It's nasty stuff and very dangerous for its leaves are sharp and can even cut through leather. Besides the dangers of the plant itself, it is very, very difficult to prevent the Dabus from carrying out their duty, for they are not easily distracted and it is not wise to try to kill them.  The occurrence is considered a sporting event on Sigil and usually draws large crowds who wager on the poor basher's[[2]](http://archiveofourown.org/works/150647/chapters/#_edn2) odds for success.”

“So what did you do to pass the test?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, “I persuaded the crowd to protect the razorvine for me.”

“Oh, the old Tom Sawyer principle,” she said, nodding sagely.

He looked puzzled.

“It's a famous story on Earth. About a clever boy who convinced his friends not only to do his work for him but also to think they were enjoying themselves as they did it. But I'm curious, Haery, what made you decide to join the Doomguard in the first place?”

A shadow passed over his face and he did not immediately reply. Finally he said shortly, “It seemed an answer at the time.”

“An answer to what?” she asked, surprised at his terseness. _It almost sounds like a religious conversion,_ she thought.

"To life; to life's meaning. The usual questions. My decision was made when I realized that life was for the most part an illusion, leading men to hope of better things when in reality all things are destined to die and decay. Nothing survives and what little truth exists resides in death rather than in life.”

She looked at him closely and was surprised to see a rather strained expression on his face. Her heart went out to him and putting a hand on his arm she said, “I truly don't understand what would have lead your thoughts down that particular path, but I won't press you further if you'd rather not discuss it. I just wish I could do something to help you feel better.”

He raised an eyebrow, saying with a slight smirk, “I can think of a few things.”

“Right,”  Jen said wryly, rolling her eyes at him.

He grinned cheerfully at her for a moment more and then his face and tone became sober as he added, “But truly, there is no wound to heal, my Kestrel. For a tiefling learns at an early age that life is unfair and there is nothing that can be done about it but to fight back. But if you must know, mine is an old and oft told tale of assumptions and betrayal. Do you remember when I told you how I knew Cambrel?”

She nodded and he continued, “Well, the long and short of it is that one evening as I visited a tavern with friends we happened to overhear a conversation which appeared to be the beginnings of a plot against Erin Darkflame Montgomery, the Factol of the Sensates. I confess I should have left well enough alone, but I was young and I knew of Erin Darkflame for my mother is a member of her faction. Anyway my friends and I slid into the shadows, trying to hear more, but were spotted and dragged out of our hiding place and forced to defend ourselves. Things might have gone badly except for the intervention of a Harmonium patrol[[3]](http://archiveofourown.org/works/150647/chapters/#_edn3) that arrested us all. To make matters worse, the plotters accused us of hatching the plot. There was no evidence; nothing but the word of the others against my friends and me. However, it is not unusual for tieflings to be accused of secret plots and alliances and sentenced without a shred of proof. We were no exception and were sentenced to death.”

“Death!” Jen exclaimed, shocked. “Why?”

“There have been many plots against Erin Darkflame for she is the second most powerful person in Sigil. She has considerable sway in the Hall of Speakers and has shown herself capable of pulling in support from opposing groups on many occasions. Plots or rumored plots against her are not taken lightly and frequently those plotting against her simply…disappear.”

“I see. So what happened? I mean, you obviously weren't killed.”

“My mother and sister learned of our imprisonment and arranged for an escape. My sister was the one who sent me to Cambrel and he provided us with the means to flee Sigil. Unfortunately, the portal to which he sent us did not lead to the Primes but to the Outer Planes where we were separated. My friend Ciniod managed to survive but Keyne did not. She died most horribly. I think I told you we ended up in the Beastlands, but it is not where the portal first took us. The portal actually took us to Baator, the Pit of Darkness.” An involuntary shudder passed through him, “I cannot find the words to describe the horrors I witnessed in the time it took me to escape, but they have marked me and made me what I am. The hells are grim places and definite proof that entropy is the destiny of all things. I was eventually able to return to Sigil for my mother had arranged a pardon, but all I saw during that time convinced me that the Doomguard philosophy was true. All things decay and die. It's the way things are supposed to be and is the ultimate goal of everything in the Multiverse.”

Jen looked at him quietly. “Do you really think so? Or was it just easier to believe that we are all doomed because you weren't able to do anything to stop what was happening to you?” Realizing she might be saying too much, she added, “No, don't answer that. I had no right to ask.”

He stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable, finally saying, “I don't mind your asking although I can't say I have an answer.  Once I could have answered unequivocally but now - I'm not as sure.” He grinned ruefully, “And I'm not sure of what prompted me to tell you this story for I've not told it to anyone before. A tiefling does not share his secrets lightly. We subscribe to the old adage, 'I watch my own back.'”

“That's too bad. I've always been taught that a true friend will guard your back. I guess I don't really know what to say to such a sad story except that I am more sorry about what happened to you than I can say,” she replied squeezing his arm in sympathy. “But it seems to me that not all of those whom you've met, particularly here on Faerun, are untrustworthy nor is every place as bleak and hopeless as Baator. Still your experience is far beyond mine and so perhaps I'm just being naïve.”

Her brother's face flashed through her mind and she stopped to catch her breath, holding back tears. When she was finally able to speak again, she said carefully, “I'm not prone to trust anyone either, at least not without watching for a long time to see if their actions match their words. Since I've been here I've been truly alone in an unfamiliar place and had to rely on strangers for everything in order to survive.  It’s been hard to get used to but on the other hand I’m beginning to feel like trusting others more isn’t such a bad thing.  And I wonder whether, for all your protests, that the same is true for you.”

He didn't answer immediately but looked off into the distance while he thought about what she'd said. She watched him anxiously while he pondered. Finally he looked down at her, an odd expression on his face. “Maybe you're right,” he said and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Dabus: A member of Sigil’s Ruler, the Lady of Pain’s personal guard. Physically, a Dabus resembles a humanoid with yellow-tan skin, goatlike horns, and a shock of white hair. Dabus float off the ground, their feet never touching the earth. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dabus  
> 2\. Basher: A neutral reference to a person, usually but not always, implying a thug or fighter. http://www.mimir.net/cant/cant2.html  
> 3\. The Harmonium are one of Sigil’s many political factions.


	27. Au Revoir - Part I

_Parting is all we know of heaven and all we need to know of hell. **[i]**_

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Jen was the first to arrive at the Roenall's that afternoon. The streets of the Government District were normally quiet, but as she glanced out the carriage windows, she noticed there seemed to be a number of armed guards, particularly near the Roenall residence. The sight caused her to shrink back into the comfortable seat of the carriage.  The coachman also seemed to feel uneasy for he leaned back towards the passenger compartment called, “Do you want to go home, Miss?”

Gathering up her courage, Jen called back, “No! I must see Nalia. Please stop.” The coachman complied shaking his head at her in what seemed to be an almost fatherly manner.

At first, she was denied entrance by a harassed-looking butler, but fortunately Nalia came down the stairs at that moment and spotted Jen, dragging her into the house.

“Such an uproar!” Nalia said gleefully. “I told you that something was going on. Well apparently someone is blackmailing Lord Farrington! I overheard him telling Isaea who's furious, of course! _He_ wanted to send me away, but Lord Farrington said no. He thinks we're being watched. They're still arguing about it.” She pointed to a closed door at the back of the house from behind which the sound of loud and angry voices could be clearly heard.

“So where's Lady Roenall?”

“Upstairs packing. I was with her until I saw your carriage. She wants to leave for their country home as soon as possible. I'll tell you, Jen, that I'm very glad to see you. I was afraid the Roenalls would whisk me off before you arrived. I just hope Tristan makes her move soon.”

“She’ll be along shortly,” Jen said.  She looked around, “Is there someplace we can sit, out of the way?” Nalia nodded and two young women made their way to a quiet corner. Jen looked around and noticed a tall and somewhat sinister-looking female watching them from the foot of the stairs. “So what's with the Amazon over there?” asked Jen.

Nalia giggled, “Isn't she awful? Isaea hired her shortly after his mother pointed out that she, unlike his male guards could watch me _anywhere._ They seem to think I'll just disappear in a puff of smoke if they aren't careful.”

A footman brought tea and Jen sipped in silence as Nalia continued to chatter. Suddenly, the door to the study opened and Isaea appeared. He glared at Nalia for a moment before stomping up the stairs. They watched him go and then Nalia turned to Jen, “I'm sorry to keep prating on at you when there's obviously something on your mind.”

“I'm just tired,” Jen replied. “It's been a busy day with Anomen's test and all. And the day's not over yet.”

Nalia eyed her thoughtfully, “I think it's more than that,” she said quietly.

Jen sighed, “It's nothing. Really. Except that I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed. So much has happened in the short time I've been here. Meeting all of you…starting to get involved in your lives. Starting to care.” She thought of Ronnie and her dream. “I don't really know how to explain it, but I've changed. In ways I didn't expect. At first, I wanted nothing more than to go home. Now I'm not sure _what_ I want.”

Nalia looked at her knowingly, “Changed your mind about going home, have you? Is it Haer'Dalis?”

“No. Yes.” She shook her head, “I don't know. I just need time to think, that's all.”

“Perhaps a walk in the garden will help clear your mind. It's where I go to mull things over.” They got up and headed for the door, the Amazon trailing them.

They spent the next hour out in the garden, talking and laughing. Jen shared the details of Anomen's test with Nalia who asked a number of questions not only about the ceremony but also about the guests, speculating on who they might have been.

“Anomen has few relatives here in Athkatla,” she said.  His father's parents are dead and while Lord Cor has siblings, he hasn't spoken to them in years. I know Anomen's uncle moved to Calimshan years ago. And if I remember rightly, his mother was from Esmeltaran. I don't believe he's had been much contact with her family for years. I doubt, even if he'd been able to contact them that there would have been time for them to travel here to witness this although from what I've heard, his grandmother at least would have done so just to spite Lord Cor.”

“I didn't meet any of them, but I overhead enough to lead me to believe a few of the guests were relatives but most had been friends of his mother's,” answered Jen.

Nalia nodded, but what she would have replied was lost as the sounds of visitors permeated their quiet retreat. The two women looked at each other, a smile spreading across Nalia's face. “Perhaps Tristan has arrived. Shall we go see?”

They entered the house to see Lord Roenall ushering three armed men into the study, one of whom was Aidan D'Asturias. Nalia looked puzzled, “What is _he_ doing here? And why is he armed?”

Jen shrugged, “Wait and see.”

Nalia looked at her in surprise, “Is he part of this too? I thought him to be a friend of Lord Farrington's.”  Smiling mysteriously, Jen motioned towards a pair of couches situated next to the study and the two young women went over and seated themselves, anticipating the outcome. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *.* * * *

Inside the study, Aidan D'Asturias produced a slim leather case. “I have the document we discussed. Are you prepared to sign it?”

Lord Roenall shook his head, “I've changed my mind. I'll take the risk of ruin. My son will marry Nalia D'Arnise within a few days and I'll have the means to clear my debts. There is nothing you can do to harm me.”

“Are you really so sure? Think of the gossip that will occur once they are married and you begin spending her money.”

“I doubt there will be much talk. After all, this marriage has been planned for years and in fact, is expected, given that they are handfasted.”

Aidan grinned wolfishly, “If you think to trick me, you'll have to do better than this. You are Nalia's guardian and as such, sworn to protect her fortunes, not abuse them. You owe me a considerable sum of money. And you know as well as I that should wind of your debts and plans for settling them come to the authorities, Nalia would have grounds for ending your claim to her guardianship and perhaps even to the handfasting. In fact, I find it rather strange that an investigation isn't already underway.”

“You have no proof! No evidence! No one will listen to your wild stories. My family is quite well-known! Even now my son has the ear of his commander and of the authorities. Tell anyone you please! Why should the Council listen to a stranger rather than take the word of an Athkatlan nobleman?” The nobleman puffed out his chest, his face taking on a rather wild-eyed and angry look as he glared at Aidan.

“You rely too much on your family name to protect you, Aidan replied calmly. “You've given notes to others besides myself and they, as I've said before, will turn on you once the truth is known. There is sufficient evidence to bring charges against you and the authorities _will_ want to talk with Nalia once they catch wind of your plans.”

Lord Roenall’s expression turned sullen as Aidan continued, “Do as you will, but know that I have other means of preventing this marriage if this will not suffice. Among them is certain knowledge that your son is involved in a number of questionable activities, all of which will lead to his imprisonment or even his death. But come! Let us not quibble over details. I still offer you an opportunity to clear your debts with me and bring your family to no harm. Isaea's activities do not trouble me and I am willing to be silent about them as long as you release the girl.”

Lord Roenall looked shaken. “Why are you so interested in Nalia's freedom? You only met her recently, after all.”

“'Tis true, but now that I've had an opportunity to do so I've taken up her cause as it were. So I ask you again, what will it be? Will you risk the ruin of your family and imprisonment of your son or release the young lady?”

The two men glared at each other for a long moment and then Lord Roenall, rubbing a hand across his eyes said in a defeated tone, “Let me get a pen.” He moved to the desk and produced a quill, inkpot and a small bottle of sand. Aidan placed the document in front of him.

“No tricks or you'll regret it.”

“No tricks,” Lord Roenall agreed. He quickly signed his name and Aidan motioned to the two men with him.

“Gentlemen, your signatures as witnesses.” The two stepped forward, quickly signing their names to the document. Aidan sprinkled sand over the ink and then closed the case, tucking it into the pouch on his belt. “I'm pleased that you were willing to see reason. Now that we've concluded our business, I'll take the young lady and go.”

He strolled out of the room, his companions following and made his way to where Nalia and Jen sat. Bowing with a flourish he said, “Ladies, I bring good news.”

“News? What sort of news?” asked Nalia.

 “Why news of your good fortune as it were.” He raised her hand to his lips. Nalia blushed while Jen silently gritted her teeth, _That's right Haery, ham it up._

He released Nalia's hand and stood smiling at them. “I have convinced Lord Roenall that your impending marriage to his son is a sad mistake. He has agreed to release his family's claim on you. You may leave whenever you chose.”

Her face flushed with joy, Nalia stammered, “H-H-How did you convince him? There's a legal agreement between our families…. How can I be free?”

Aidan patted the pouch at his belt, “I have my ways and will be happy to explain them to you presently but for now I think we should leave and take you back to your friends.”

Nalia sprang to her feet, throwing her arms around him, “Oh Aidan! How can I ever thank you?”

Aidan's companions grinned at her innocent enthusiasm while Jen raised a sardonic eyebrow at the pair. Glancing up, Aidan saw the expression on Jen's face and hastily removed Nalia's arms from around his neck. “No thanks are necessary my dear. Shall we go?”

“Not so fast,” came a voice from behind them. They turned to see Isaea Roenall coming towards them followed by the Amazon and several guards. “Did you really think me foolish enough to give in so easily? Nalia isn't going anywhere and I suggest you hand over that ridiculous document before anyone gets hurt.”

“Perhaps,” drawled Aidan as he stepped in front of the two women, fingering the hilts of the swords at his sides, “you are unaware I hold the winning hand. Your father has already signed the document and I have promised not to go the authorities, either with information about his debts or some of your recent activities.”

“And what surety do you offer? Your word of honor? I doubt you know the meaning of it,” Isaea sneered. “Now, give me the document and you and your friends may leave unharmed.” He turned to Nalia, “No, not you my dear. Only Mr. D'Asturias and his sorry acquaintances may leave. You will remain with me.” He stepped to one side, reaching for Nalia, but Aidan blocked his path.

“This is all quite entertaining my dear Isaea, but you underestimate me. I too am no fool and I do not give up so easily. If you want either this,” Aidan patted his belt pouch, “or Nalia, you'll have to take them from me.” He glanced at his companions who drew their swords and moved closer to him.

Isaea drew his own sword and with his guards behind him, advanced upon the group, “If you'll not give them up willingly, then I'm happy to persuade you by other means.” Their swords came together with a crash as Nalia and Jen scrambled to safety behind the couch on which they had been seated only a short time before. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *.* * * *

Her heart in her mouth, Jen watched the fight from her vantage point behind the furniture. Although Aidan was the more polished swordsman, Isaea fought with a skill born of anger and determination. The heat of his attack gave him a brief advantage and he used it to drive Aidan back towards the wall. Jen's hands flew to cover her mouth as Isaea drew back his sword for what he obviously thought would be a mortal blow, only to gasp with relief, as Aidan knocked the blow aside, kicking Isaea in the chest with his right foot.

Isaea fell backwards, arms flailing, and then, recovering his balance pressed forward again. Aidan moved to meet him and they met in a flurry of blows. This time it was Isaea who fell back. In desperation, he began striking out wildly, his sword cutting at Aidan's midriff. It glanced off the studded leather armor hidden under his shirt, but sliced through the pouch at his waist like a hot knife through butter. The document case along with coins and other items fell to the floor with a clatter as the men fought on. As the case spun past, Aidan kicked it towards the couch where Jen was hidden. She watched it slide towards her and with one eye on the guards and her heart in her mouth, moved out from behind the safety of the furniture to pick it up. She bent forward, snatching at the document only to find someone else before her. Lord Roenall, having apparently gathered up his own courage, had come out of the study and their fingers connected as they reached for the document simultaneously.

They rose, each holding on to a corner of the case. Jen kicked at her opponent, struggling to get a better grip. He fought back, hitting her in the face with his open palm. The slap hurt but did not make her release her hold on the document. Angry now, Jen drew her arm back and slugged him, her fist meeting his nose with a loud and satisfying crunch. With a loud cry, he let go of the case to clutch at his face and she snatched it up triumphantly. Looking around she realized no one was paying attention to her - for Lord Roenall who was closest, was far too busy tending to his streaming nose and Nalia was a short distance away, having moved out into the room to throw fireballs at Isaea's guards.

Jen eased herself away from the study noting that Aidan's friends had overpowered the Roenall guards.  She was puzzled but pleased given that the guards far outnumbered them and she wondered what was keeping Tristan.  Isaea seemed to be flagging but unwilling to give up. As she watched, he suddenly broke away, raised his fingers to his lips as he ran for the stairs with Aidan in pursuit. He whistled loudly, obviously a summons for nearly a dozen additional guards burst through the front door, heading towards him.

Isaea turned back panting, his armor dented and with blood seeping from several cuts on his unprotected arms. “I've humored you for long enough. Now hand over the document or my guards will cut you to pieces!”

Jen clutched the case protectively, watching in horror. How could the three men possibly protect themselves against so many? She knew _she_ was of no use against armed men although she was aware that Nalia had her arts. _What could have happened to Tristan and the others? _Surely they should have arrived by now!__ _Her eyes darted around wildly, searching_ for escape route only to be caught by the sight of the entryway empty save for the fountain splashing and gurgling in its center. _The fountain! Perfect screen for a quick exit._  She headed towards the pool thinking to ease herself out the front door and make a break for it. _I'll find Tristan and Keldorn; bring them back here._

Upon reaching the shelter of the flowing water, she looked back to see Aidan standing in the center of the room, facing Isaea's guards, a rather odd smile hovering about his lips. Behind him the Amazon had captured Nalia and was dragging her bodily towards the stairs where Lady Roenall waited, having been drawn out of her room by the noise of the conflict. _Great, just great,_ Jen thought. _I_ ** _have_** _to get out of here and find Tristan._

Just then, the front door flew open to admit their missing friends. Intense relief swept through her and with rescue at hand, she sank to the ground behind the fountain, stuffing the case under her shirt. _Thank God! The cavalry has arrived._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Partings. Emily Dickinson


	28. Au Revoir - Part II

_Such partings break the heart they fondly hope to heal._   
[   
_  
**[1]**   
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](http://archiveofourown.org/works/150647/chapters/#_edn1)   
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Tristan burst through the Roenall’s front door, followed by Jaheria and Keldorn and headed straight for Nalia, quickly disarming the Amazon as Lady Roenall flew up the stairs with a shriek and disappeared into a distant room, the door slamming behind her. 

At their entrance, Isaea fell back, screaming for his guards to attack them.  Those who had been with him at the start of the fight moved forward but the new group didn’t move.  Isaea’s face flushed with anger/  “What's the matter with you!? Kill them!”

Aidan stepped forward, “I'm afraid, dear sir, that this little farce is about to end. Given your propensity to ignore the ah…lower classes, you failed to notice the identity of your guards. These gentlemen are _my_ men, not yours.”

Isaea shot another look at the new guards, a stunned look on his face and then, screaming angrily, he sprang forward, his sword aimed at Aidan's face. One of Aidan's swords leapt to block the blow while the other swept forward to bury itself in Isaea's shoulder. As Isaea fell to the ground Tristan stepped between the men.

“Enough!” she said. “I cannot allow you to kill him, Ha - Aidan, no matter how much you might like it.” She turned to Jaheria, “I hate to ask it, but please heal him. I have plans which require him to be whole.”

Jaheira, who had been applying her arts to the wounds of Aidan's original two companions, came and looked at Isaea before motioning to two of Aidan’s guard who came over to disarm him and help her carry him to the couch.

Nalia watched from a distance as Jaheira performed her healing ritual, waiting until the druid stepped back before coming forward.  As she approached, Isaea struggled to his feet to face her. She looked at him disdainfully for a moment and then said sweetly, “How thoughtful of you to want to rise in the presence of a lady. But you're hurt! Do let me help you sit back down.” With that, she drew back her foot and kicked him squarely in the crotch. With a strangled yelp, he collapsed onto the divan once again and lay there holding his injured parts and moaning in pain.  Jaheira rolled her eyes, giving Nalia an exasperated look.  Nalia ignored the obvious reproach and smiled sweetly again, this time at both nurse and patient before turning to look around the room. Spotting Jen near the fountain, she waved and called out, “Jen! It's safe to come back now!"

Jen stepped out from behind the fountain and headed toward the group assembled near the couch. Her feeling of triumph at the party's success made her less cautious of her surroundings than she should have been and she didn't think to check for the whereabouts of Lord Roenall. He seemed to have escaped the notice of the rest of the group as well and she was taken completely by surprise when he appeared suddenly in front of her, his left hand reaching out to grasp her shoulder.  “Not so fast my dear. I believe you have something that belongs to me.” As he spoke, she felt a sharp pricking just under her ribs.

She looked up at him in surprise as the jab became more sharply painful and she realized he was holding a weapon against her side. He pressed it into her, the knife piercing the thin cloth of her tunic and cutting into her flesh, causing a trickle of blood to run down her side. He looked down at her, a pleasantly treacherous smile floating on his lips. “Careful, sweetheart. For all that I don't look like a fighter, I _do_ know how to use this. And believe me, I _will_ if you don't do as I say.” She nodded, her eyes wide with fear.

“Now,” he went on, “slowly take the document out of your shirt and give it to me. Then you’ll walk to the door with me.  Once I’m gone, you can go to your friends.  Don’t try to run away.”  He unconsciously echoed Aidan's earlier words, “No tricks or you'll regret it.”

Jen reached under her shirt, slowly withdrawing the leather case containing the precious document. She started to hand it to him jumping away as he released her to take it. With a look of annoyance, he reached out and grabbed her by the arm. “ _No tricks!”_ he hissed. “Pick it up!”  She felt the stiletto pricking her side and bent down carefully to comply with his command, holding the case carefully in front of her.  Her heart pounded against her ribs in a combination of anger and fear as she obediently shielded his walk towards the home’s front door.  As they drew near it, he suddenly shoved the stiletto smoothly into her side. It grated a little as it struck bone before sliding smoothly between her ribs and stopped with the hilt resting against her skin. She fell to the floor, paralyzed with pain, helpless as he bent to snatch the document out of her limp hands and pull the knife out of her side, laughing triumphantly.

His mirth vanished suddenly as strong hands grasped him, tossing him against the wall of the foyer with a loud thud.  Jen watched in bemusement as Lord Roenall slid to the ground, Aidan D'Asturias standing over him, his face twisted in rage. Lord Roenall struggled to his feet raising the stiletto defensively against his attacker only to have it knocked contemptuously out of his hand.  

“You!” he rasped at Aidan, “What do you want?”

Aidan's face was calm although his eyes were alight with fury. He reached forward to pin Lord Roenall against the wall, holding him by the throat. His voice was tight with anger when he spoke.  “I want a great deal.  Understand me well, _sir_. There will be a reckoning for this and you will pay for what you've done. Not now and perhaps not even today. But it will happen. Don't think to hide from me for there is nowhere you can go that I won't find you.”

Lord Roenall nodded weakly, trying to breathe. Aidan glared at him a moment longer, shaking him like a dog with a rat. “Give me the document!” Gasping for air, Lord Roenall obeyed, opening his hand slowly to allow the case to fall to the floor beside him. Aidan smiled contemptuously before shoving him into the arms of the guards coming towards them. “Take him to the others!” he commanded, waiting until the guards took charge of Lord Roenall before falling to his knees on the floor beside Jen.

She looked up at him, confusion in her eyes. “Haery?”

In answer, he removed the Hat of Disguise, looking at her with an expression of concern, “How badly are you hurt, my love?”

She put a hand against her side and removed it, looking curiously at the small splotch of blood staining her palm. Her hand seemed rather far away and she squinted, trying to see it clearly. There seemed to be less blood than she had expected, given the throbbing in her chest. _Maybe it just_ ** _feels_** _worse than it really is._ “I don't know,” she replied in a shaky voice. “Maybe if I stand up.…”

“I don't think that's wise. Stay here and I'll get Jaheira.”

“No. It hurts but I should be fine. There’s not much blood.  I _want_ to get up.” She struggled to rise and he put out a hand to restrain her.

“Wait. If you must get up, I'll help you.” With that, he picked up the document and stiletto, thrusting them into his belt, and then reached out for her. The sudden change in position dizzied her and she clung to him for balance, holding onto his arm to take a couple of tottery steps forward as a wave of pain crashed over her, the fire in her chest becoming unbearable. _Standing up was a mistake._

“You _must_ sit down. You're badly hurt!” he exclaimed.

She shook her head stubbornly and took a few more cautious steps forward.  Spots appeared in front of her eyes and the floor tilted.   _I can't breathe._  Her legs shook and she thought, _Haery's right. Must sit down._  As she started to bend her knees, a loud buzzing noise filled in her ears and with a small sigh she slid forward.  Haer'Dalis caught her as she fell, easing her to the floor and shouting frantically for Jaheira.

Within seconds, the druid knelt by Jen's side, her fingers gently probing the wound.  “What did this?” she asked and Haer'Dalis grimly held up the stiletto.  “Silvanus' Mallet!” she swore, “I hate those things!  From the looks of it, the blade traveled upwards. It may have pierced something vital.”

“Can you heal her?” asked Nalia in a small voice.  She had come running across the room upon hearing Haer'Dalis’ shout and was now standing by Jen's feet, her eyes wide with worry.

Jaheira shook her head. “I used all my memorized spells on Isaea and on Haer'Dalis's friends.  But, I've got a couple of healing potions left.  Perhaps I can persuade her to drink them.”  She opened a bottle of the potion. Holding her finger over the pointed end, she poured a few drops into the tube, removing her finger as she slipped it into Jen's mouth.  Jen swallowed reflexively and Jaheira smiled.  “That's a good sign.”  She tilted the bottle against Jen’s lips but this time, instead of swallowing, Jen began to choke.  Jaheria whipped away the cylinder and turned Jen onto her side, patting her gently on the back as liquid dribbled out of her mouth, waiting for a minute before trying again.

Finally, after a few more swallows, Jen's eyes fluttered and opened.

“Stay back! Let her breathe!” commanded Jaheira as the others began to crowd in, babbling their relief. “Stay still,” she said to Jen.  “You need to drink the rest of this.  Can you do it?”

Jen blinked at her, gasping. The pain in her chest was unbearable and her heart seemed to be thumping erratically. She tried to take the flask, but her hands wouldn't obey her mental order to move.

Jaheira leaned forward, placing the potion bottle against her lips again.  “Please swallow, Jen,” she urged gently.  Jen obediently tried to follow her directions but only succeeded in choking once again. 

“This can't continue,” muttered Tristan, looking around the room. Spotting Yoshimo, standing with the others surrounding Isaea and his father she went over to him asking, “Can you send someone to the Temple of the Radiant Heart and fetch Anomen? Hurry! The temple’s not far.  Jen needs a priest; she doesn’t seem able to swallow the potions.”

“I'll go, my friend. Don’t worry, I'll bring him back shortly,” Yoshimo replied and within seconds had disappeared through the front door.

Tristan returned to Jen and joined the group kneeling beside her. “I've sent for Anomen. He should be able to heal you.”

Haer'Dalis slid her across his lap, gently holding her against him.  “Anomen's coming, my Kestrel. He'll be able to heal you. It won't be long.”

Jen did not respond.  She could no longer see Haer'Dalis or hear the voices of any of those present.  Looking around she saw nothing but darkness.  Then a flash of light caught her eye and she looked up to see Ronnie standing nearby. “Ronnie,” she said wonderingly, “What are _you_ doing here?”

“I told you'd I'd come back when you were ready little sister.  I've been waiting for you. Are you ready to go now?” He stood in a halo of light, holding out his hand.

At that moment, she felt Haer’Dalis’s arms tightened.  The light faded for a moment and she found herself caught between two worlds; unable to speak. She peered at the nimbus until finally she was able to distinguish Ronnie again and mutely shook her head at him.

Ronnie looked back at her, his eyes warm with sympathy. “I know. You want to stay.” He came towards her and touched her face. Warmth flooded through her, releasing her from her speechless state.

“Please,” she whispered, “I want to go back.”

“Just for a minute, but that's all,” Ronnie said, his expression one of empathy and understanding.  Then placing a hand on either side of her face, he bent over, kissing her on the brow.

The darkness receded and she looked up to see Haer'Dalis's worried face hovering above her own.  She whispered to him, “Haery! It's my brother, Ronnie. He's come back for me! But I don't want to go. Not yet.”

“Then don't go Jen.   _Please,_ my love, _don't go._ ” He raised her hands to his lips, kissing them.  His mouth felt hot against her skin. _I feel so cold_.

Behind him Ronnie beckoned to her, “C'mon little sister.  Let’s go.  Your friends can’t help you now.”

She smiled up at Haer'Dalis, crying out as he faded from her sight and then Ronnie reached out to take her hand. “You'll be fine. Just come with me.” As she stepped into the pool of light, she began to feel warm again and hugged her brother gratefully saying, “Alright Ronnie. I'm here.” She looked back, still trying to see Haer'Dalis, but Ronnie tugged her forward, “Don't look. There's nothing you can do now.” And so, with a sigh of regret, she turned and resolutely followed her brother as he walked away.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 Haer’Dalis felt Jen go limp in his arms.  He bent over her for a moment, the rings in his ear jangling softly as he placed it to next to her lips, listening carefully and then touched the vein in her neck. _Nothing._ “Jen,” he said softly, “Jen!”  Still nothing.  Then a gloved hand touched his shoulder and he looked up to see Tristan looking down at him. Her eyes were soft and full of unspoken sympathy and he froze, a feeling of emptiness washing over him as he sat, silent and unmoving. He noted the numb feeling abstractedly and almost wonderingly. _‘Tis not how endings usually feel._

“Haer'Dalis,” he heard Tristan say, “Oh, Haery!”

He looked up then and saw the others standing around him in shocked silence. “She's gone,” he said simply.

 

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> [1] Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, George Gordon Noel Byron, (1788-1824)


	29. Hope

Anomen didn't recognize the boy who came running into the room, calling out his name. _Must be one of the new squires,_ he thought. The boy slid to a stop in front of him. “Sir Anomen Delryn? That's you, isn't it sir?”

 _Sir Anomen._ The sound of his name preceded by the honorific caused Anomen to smile happily. “Yes,” he replied, “I'm Anomen Delryn.”

The boy looked at the other knight, “Excuse me for interrupting, but Sir,” he stammered, turning back to Anomen, “there's a man waiting for you in the vestibule. He says it's vital.”

Anomen looked across the table at his new commander, Sir Ryan Trawl, who shrugged. “Go see to it, Anomen. I'll wait.” Anomen nodded and got up from the table. Following the boy out the door, he said, “Did the man tell you his name?”

“No sir,” replied the boy, “but I don't think he's from around here. He looks…different. Like the pictures in my books. I think he's a Kara-Turan.”

“Ah,” said Anomen, suddenly realizing who his visitor must be and wondering what could be so urgent. Had something happened to Tristan? The thought worried him and he picked up his pace, the boy running to keep up with him. As he rounded the corner into the Temple's vestibule, he spotted Yoshimo and went towards him.

Yoshimo rose, “Young Anomen, it's good to see you. Or _Sir_ Anomen, as I should say now.”

“Yes.” Anomen felt his heart beginning to pound and he hoped that Yoshimo couldn't tell how nervous he felt. “So what brings you here?” 

“Tristan sent me,” Yoshimo replied, “She asks you come to the Roenalls. Now.”

“But what has happened? Is Tristan…?”

Yoshimo shook his head. “No, it’s the other young woman; Jen.  There's no time to explain, but if you don't come with me now, she may not survive. 

Joy and relief swept over Anomen as the knowledge that Tristan was safe sank in, followed immediately by feelings of remorse. _I shouldn’t wish hurt on anyone else either._ A noise from behind caused him spin around to find that the young squire was still with him, staring curiously as he watched the exchange. “That will be all,” he said curtly and the boy nodded, instantly vanishing from the room in a flurry of long skinny legs.

Anomen turned back to Yoshimo. “Let me go see if my superior will release me.”  He hurried out of the room to find Sir Ryan, hoping the he would prove willing to accede to his request. 

The older knight listened patiently, finally saying, “Yes you may leave.  Our business is finished for today.  And as to your friends, the plan has always been for you to rejoin them.  In fact, it is good to know they wish for your continued presence as well, for while the Order does have plans for you, we are content, at present, to allow you to continue your travels with them. We will talk more of this later, however.” He rose and walked towards the door with Anomen trailing behind full of effusive thanks for his understanding. 

The afternoon was warm, although not as hot as it had been in previous weeks. The men moved quickly through the streets, Anomen keeping pace with Yoshimo although he was attired in full plate mail in contrast to the other's studded leather. They reached the Government District in short order and entered the Roenall house.

The large main room was silent except for the sound of sobs. Anomen looked around and saw a cluster of couches and chairs near the opposite wall. Jen was lying on one of the divans with Nalia seated next to her weeping furiously. Tristan and Jaheira were nearby, their faces grim and controlled as they talked to a handful of guards standing in front of a doorway. But the strangest sight to meet his eyes was that of Haer'Dalis, weapons in hand, bound by an _Entangle_ spell. There was no sign of the Roenall family although the room itself bore signs of the recent struggle. _Why is Haer'Dalis imprisoned?_ he wondered. 

Tristan spotted him then and ran forward. “Oh Anomen, I'm so glad to see you!” 

“Yes,” he said soothingly putting an arm around her shoulders, “I understand.  But now let me go to Jen. You sent for me to come and heal her, did you not?” 

Tristan's eyes fell, “It's too late Anomen. She's…she's gone.”

Her words shocked him. “Gone? You mean she's…dead?” Tristan nodded in reply.   _I'm too late! Just as with Moira!_ He walked over to the couch and stood looking down at Jen, thoughts racing through his head. _It doesn't_ ** _have_** _to be too late. When Moira died, Father had her cremated before I could see her. But this is different. Jen's body is still here._ Out loud he said, “She could be raised.” 

“Yes,” Tristan replied, glancing towards Haer'Dalis. 

“You don't need to talk as if I weren't here.  What you suggest is unnatural. Fate takes us all and as much as I might wish differently….” His voice trailed off and he struggled against the vines for a second, adding “You _can_ free me you know.  I'll concede to your wishes as regards Lord Roenall…at least for the moment, so there's no need to continue this nonsense.”

Tristan eyed him closely for a minute, “Alright.  Then we’re in agreement?  _I_ will deal with Lord Roenall?” He stared grimly at her but nodded agreement.  She glanced back at Jaheira, “Let the spell wear off.”

Anomen looked at them, shaking is head as if to clear it. “What happened here? Start at the beginning.”

“I don't know all of it, I wasn't here at first. Apparently Haer'Dalis did manage to get Lord Roenall to sign the document.”

“It wasn't Haery, it was Aidan!” interjected Nalia who had risen from the couch to join them. “Aidan D'Asturia was the one who made Lord Roenall sign the paper,” she said again, “I thought he was a friend of Lord Roenall's but I guess he's not. He was here and then he just vanished. I-I don't know where he's gone.”

“Don't you?” asked Tristan glancing at Haer'Dalis, now waiting patiently for release from the tangle of sticky vines.

Nalia's eyes followed hers, “I don't understand.”

“No?” Tristan sighed, “Ah well.” Looking at Nalia she added, “Didn't you notice that Aidan disappeared when Haer’Dalis appeared?”

“No! I-I-It can't be! I mean Aidan was so….so… _amazing_ ; we had so much in common! And Haer'Dalis is **_so_** ** _…_** **.** ” She stopped, her eyes widening and the look she cast in Haer'Dalis's direction was decidedly unfriendly.

Tristan turned back to Anomen, “Anyway, as Yoshimo may have told you, it appears that Isaea had planned a trap. We were ready for it, thanks to Haer’Dalis and Yoshimo's foresight and would have come off with little to no bloodshed if Lord Roenall had not thought to use Jen as a distraction.” She paused and then added, “After Jen died, Haer'Dalis tried to kill Lord Roenall, but we prevented it.”

Anomen looked puzzled, “You prevented him from avenging her death? That makes no sense!”

Tristan glared up at him, “You _know_ we have a plan for the Roenalls!  And as to Haer’ Dalis - well letting him kill Lord Roenall makes as much sense as it would have for _you_ to go after your sister's killer.  As I recall, you agreed with me that the law would handle it most appropriately - at least at the time.”

“Because I had no proof that Saerk was really her killer!” he retorted. “I had only the word of my father – a man so lost in drink that his words are hardly to be trusted! Particularly on the topic of Saerk's supposed perfidy given that he's been feuding with him for years. But this is different. You _saw_ the deed!”

“Makes no difference, good must still be upheld. And it will be I promise you. Although my revenge may not be as violent as either of you would prefer, understand that I _do_ have plans for the Roenalls.”  She stopped, shaking her head unhappily before continuing, “Please. Let's not argue over what's already happened, Anomen. We need to decide what to do next - about Jen.”

He nodded, his face still grim, “Yes, I suppose you're right. It would have been wrong to kill Lord Roenall although I do understand the desire to do so. Now, shall I raise Jen? I have memorized the spell.”

Tristan ran a hand through her hair, a sign that she was troubled, “Yes, I think we owe it to her, although Haer'Dalis…” her voice trailed off and she shrugged.  “Well, I’m _sure_ you can imagine the argument we’ve been having.  He feels very strongly that raising Jen would be wrong.”

“What!” exclaimed Anomen angrily, “That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. He says he cares for her, yet wants to let her remain as she is? It makes no sense!”

“As you just heard, he insists that all things must come to an end; death and decay are inevitable. To raise her would disrupt the natural order of things,” replied Tristan tonelessly.

“My child, perhaps the bard is right,”  Jaheira said from behind her.  Tristan startled and then turned to look at the older woman.  “Raising those who have died is not to be taken lightly. Balance must be maintained and there are times when it is wrong to bring back those who have gone on. K-Khalid….” Her voice faltered and her eyes filled with tears. Tristan reached out, putting a sympathetic arm around her as the memory of Jaheira's own recent loss came back. Tristan reached out and put her arm around Jaheira, hugging her sympathetically.

Anomen glanced at them. _Tristan said that Khalid died trying to defend her and his body was desecrated in a way that made it impossible to raise him. No wonder Jaheira feels some empathy for Haer'Dalis. Still...._ “No,” he said firmly, "This is different.” He looked at Jaheira, “I didn't know your husband or the circumstances under which he died. But while I honor your decision to let him go, I must do this for Jen - and for Moira.”

He went back to the couch, looking at Jen for a moment and then bowed his head. The three women followed, arranging themselves in a half circle a short distance opposite. Tristan saw his lips moving and realized he must be praying, preparing himself to cast the spell of resurrection. A soft light began to shine around him and he began to chant, his hands making arcane symbols in the air. The light grew stronger and spread to encompass Jen's body. As the others watched, a beam began to solidify over her.  Anomen raised his hands skyward finishing the spell, his voice loud in the silent room and the light surrounding him flashing before suddenly winking out. He looked at Jen but her body remained as it was, lifeless and immobile. He bowed his head in defeat. “I cannot find her,” he said softly, a bewildered look on his face. “I have raised others but always before, I could feel their presence, could reach out and touch them with my mind. It's almost as if her spirit has fled far away - back to her own world perhaps.” His shoulders inside the heavy armor slumped visibly, “I have failed her - just as I failed Moira.”

Tristan came over and put a hand on his arm, “You have failed no one and you've done everything you can.”

“The fates have decided.” Haer'Dalis's voice rang out unexpectedly from behind.  The group turned to see the bard looking at them, having finally been freed from the _Entangle_ spell. He spoke calmly, his face expressionless. “As much as my heart desires her restoration to this life, it goes against the principles I have sworn to uphold.” He came over and knelt next to Jen's body, his eyes on her face as if trying to memorize it. Finally he picked up her hand, pressing it against his lips for a long moment, then stood, turning to face Tristan, “We must arrange for a burial.”

She nodded, “Yes, you're right.” Before she could continue, Yoshimo came forward. He had been standing slightly to one side of the group, in the midst of the guards.

“Perhaps I can be of assistance,” he said. “You've much on your mind. Let me go and make all the necessary arrangements. I'll be back shortly with one who will take your friend's body and prepare it for interment.” Tristan nodded in relief and Yoshimo turned to leave the Roenall residence yet again.

Drawing a deep breath, she looked over at Anomen. “I guess we should deal with the Roenalls while Yoshimo is gone.” She glanced at Haer'Dalis, “Why don’t you go; take a walk, get some rest, whatever you need to do.”

He stared at her for a moment and then his eyes went back to Jen.

“Go, Haery. I think it's for the best. Yoshimo is making arrangements for her. I'll visit you later and fill you in,” she said firmly. “Jaheira will walk back to the _Iron Rose_ with you.”

Their eyes met, locking in a test of wills, and then he nodded, “Aye. I’ll go, but alone. I don't need a nursemaid. And as for Lord Roenall, he _will_ pay for what he has done here today. I swear it.”

She sighed, “Believe me, I understand. But perhaps what I have in mind will satisfy you. Now go so we can finish our business here.”

He nodded once again and then bent over to gently kiss Jen one last time, “Good-bye, my love,” he said.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Haer'Dalis left the Roenall house. He had no wish to return to the _Iron Rose Inn,_ but given a strong desire to be alone and nowhere else to go, he began wandering in its general direction. He paid little attention to his surroundings and instead found himself reliving the past few hours as he moved through the streets.

Once the fight with Isaea had ended he had looked around the room for Jen and had seen Lord Roenall holding her arm. He had started towards them when a glint of light had caught his eye. He'd realized then that Lord Roenall was holding a knife and had thrown himself across the room, hoping against hope that he could intervene but he had been too late. _If I had paid more attention or had moved more quickly she would still be alive._ His stomach twisted as a wave of anger mixed with a profound sense of loss swept through him and he took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. The anger passed, only to be replaced by surprise at both the depth of his feelings and his seeming inability to accept the inevitability of what had occurred. _I thought I was past such things. _In truth, I wanted Anomen to raise her, even though it's against everything I believe; everything I have sworn to uphold. But nothing lasts forever. All things die and decay. Even the Multiverse is doomed. I have accepted this in the past, why can't I accept it now?__

Just then, a noise coming from a nearby alleyway startled him and he turned with a snarl to see two urchin children coming towards him. The younger child, a girl, gave a little shriek upon seeing his face and her brother moved protectively in front of her. “We meant no harm. We only wanted to ask for some food. Please don't hurt us,” he said pleadingly. Haer'Dalis nodded, closing his eyes for a brief moment and willing his expression to relax.  Normally he would have ignored them and moved on, but something about the boy tugged at him and made him stop.

“I'll not harm you,” he said. “You startled me; that is all.” He reached into his pouch, intending to pull out a few coins and give them to the children but as he did so his hand encountered the vent made by Isaea's sword. He shook his head, “I'm sorry, I have nothing to give you at present but if you'll tell me where I can find you, I'll come back later.” The children eyed him suspiciously and he assumed what he hoped was a winning expression.

Finally, the boy pointed back towards the dilapidated building next to the alley. “There. We live there.”

“Then I'll meet you here later,” Haer'Dalis replied. The children nodded, vanishing back into the shadows and with an irritable shrug at his own credulity, he moved on.

He arrived at the Iron Rose Inn with no further incident. Making his way into the common room, he summoned the innkeeper, “A bottle of Firewine if you please.”

The innkeeper grinned, “Firewine is pretty er…potent. Not a good idea for one person to drink a whole bottle by himself. But perhaps you're meeting someone…hmmmmm, perhaps your lady?” He winked as he handed Haer'Dalis the bottle.

The innkeeper had no way of knowing what had happened but even so, the innocent remark was salt in an open wound.  Haer’Dalis glared.  “That's none of your concern,” he replied shortly and taking the wine headed up stairs to his room.

Once inside, he uncorked it and took a long pull, then still holding the bottle, walked over to the large trunk that had once belonged to the Sigil Troupe. He put the bottle on the floor and stripped off his studded leather armor, underlying shirt and the now useless pouch before sitting down cross-legged in front of it. Opening the trunk, he emptied it swiftly, his fingers sliding across its bottom until they encountered the hidden latch. He pressed down and the trunk's false floor slid back to expose its hidden contents, then picked up the wine bottle and took a couple of long swigs. The alcohol slid down his throat and settled in his stomach, its warmth spreading throughout his body although it did nothing to warm the icy feeling in his chest.

He placed the bottle carefully back on the floor beside him and reached into the trunk to pull out a few gold pieces, before turning to scrabble through the clothes on the floor searching for a new pouch. Finding one, he dumped in the coins and then turned back to the trunk to pull out Lord Roenall's notes of hand. As he picked them up his fingers encountered a stiff roll of paper.   _The scroll I took from Cambrel_ , he thought and his eyes widened. Snatching it from its resting place, he hastily unrolled it, his eyes searching anxiously for the symbols he thought he remembered from his brief glance at it in Cambrel’s study. 

Then he found them; the Lady of Pain's symbol along with another that made his heart beat faster. He stared at it a moment longer as hope began to dawn. If he was right, the spell written on the scroll would, with the Lady's permission, allow the traveler to literally turn back the clock. _Jen doesn't need to die! And unlike a resurrection, this act will not constitute restoration, for her death will never have happened._ Then his mood changed abruptly like a child offered a treat only to have it pulled away. _I can't cast it. I don't have the power._ He pondered for a few minutes and then brightened once again. _Raelis used to visit a mage in the Promenade. She said he possessed more arcane knowledge than most. Perhaps I can persuade him to help me._

He placed the precious scroll carefully in the pouch and then stuffed everything back into the chest before closing and locking it. Suddenly energized, he threw on his shirt and armor, then bounded out of the room and flew down the stairs, exiting the inn at a run. Patrons coming to visit the inn's tavern hurriedly moved out of the way, stared curiously at him as he passed but he ignored them, focused only upon reaching Waukeen's Promenade in the shortest space of time possible.

 


	30. Possibilities

Haer'Dalis hurried towards the Promenade. Although it was evening - normally a time for dinner and darkness - the streets were surprisingly busy.  He moved rapidly and unseeingly; so focused on his hope and purpose that he didn’t notice any of those he passed until a group of street urchins crossed his path. Then, remembering his promise – a brief flicker of memory in his overheating brain - he turned down a side street and headed towards a group of derelict buildings. He wasn’t much of a philanthropist at any time and while it irked him to deviate from his goal he somehow hoped that the act would bring him luck. He honestly didn’t know what prompted him towards such altruistic action; it certainly wasn’t his usual behavior, but for some reason he felt superstitious; that it just _needed_ to be done to restore the day’s balance.   _And after all, ‘tis said_ _no good deed goes unrewarded._[i]  He looked around carefully upon reaching the area where he'd encountered the children, but saw no movement either in the building's shadows or the alleyway next to it. Finally he put his fingers to his lips and whistled shrilly. Soon the building's rotting door creaked slightly ajar and a tousled head popped out and looked around.  As the urchin looked towards Haer’Dalis, his expression brightened and he smiled before glancing back into the interior of the building and whispering a few short phrases before towards Haer’Dalis, stopping a couple of feet away. There was something familiar in the child’s watchfulness and the sense that he would and _could_ disappear at the least hint of danger that took Haer’Dalis back to another, earlier time and a much younger self.  _I watch my own back._

“You came back!” the boy said delightedly. “I didn't think you would. Lots of people say they'll help us but they never do.”

Haer'Dalis smiled briefly and held out a handful of silver, “I keep my word.” _At least I do most of the time._ Then after glancing around he said, “Put the money in your pocket and don't let anyone see it. This isn't a safe place.”

“I know,” replied the boy. He reached out to the coins, skipping quickly back once they were safely in his hand and then turned, heading back towards the safety of the building. As Haer'Dalis watched him go he saw another pair of eyes peering out of the doorway. The eyes disappeared as the boy entered the building, the door closing firmly behind him and all was silent once again.

Shrugging, Haer'Dalis turned and made his way back the way he had come, heading south towards the Promenade. He reached it in short order, entering through a tall whitewashed arch.  Waukeen's Promenade was unusually constructed with stacked rows of shops and homes surrounding a large open quadrangle which made it stand out from the more conventional wood and rough-hewn stone structures that made up the rest of the city. He made his way down the length of the Promenade and climbed up the stairs to the third tier of buildings eventually spotting a small black door at the end of the row. Upon reaching it, he knocked softly. No one answered so he tried again. This time the door swung slowly open and he looked inside. Although the place seemed empty he knew that this could be an illusion, particularly given his memory of Raelis’s words of caution regarding the home's inhabitant, so he glanced about cautiously before stepping through the door.

A fire burned brightly in a corner of the room although the evening was warm. The fire provided the only light in the room, yet it was enough for him to see the large chair placed in a spot which would allow its occupant to see the entire room as well as take best advantage of the heat.  A stack of comfortable-looking pillows was opposite, obviously intended for visitors.  While he knew there would be a cost to his request, the message sent by the seating arrangements seemed almost a little too obvious. _Only supplicants need apply_.

The room was lined with shelves of books and other strange objects. He looked at them curiously but touched nothing as he walked through the room, knowing full well that the owner of the small apartment was undoubtedly present although he had yet to appear. Upon reaching the pile of cushions, he sat down, waiting calmly in the flickering darkness for several minutes before a voice came out of the depths of the chair, “You're not going to go away, are you?”

Haer'Dalis smiled in spite of himself. Raelis had told him that the mage, Arshaka by name, did not like visitors and did his best to discourage them, often creating illusions of demons or wild animals to scare them away. In contrast, his own welcome had been rather mild.

“I'm not easily frightened,” he replied.

He heard a deep sigh and then a figure began to materialize opposite him. The man who appeared in the chair looked surprisingly young at first glance for his face was unlined and his hair had yet to be touched with steel or snow. Only his eyes were old with the ageless depths that come from years of experience and long study.

“Why have you come to me?” he asked.

“Raelis Shai told me to seek you out if I had need. She said you were a friend to planetravelers and possessed knowledge of many unusual things,” Haer'Dalis replied.

“Hmmm, that's as may be, but it doesn't explain why _you're_ here.”

Haer'Dalis studied the man for a moment, wondering how best to begin. Then with a shrug, he replied, “I'm here to help a friend.”

The mage smiled, “More than a friend I would say, for it is unlikely that one such as you would seek help otherwise.” He looked at Haer'Dalis a moment longer and then said, “I'm not in the business of making love philters or spells. You'll have to look elsewhere for such assistance.”

Haer'Dalis's eye brows shot up, his look a mixture of insulted surprise and disdain as he said sharply, “I am perfectly capable of managing my affairs without resorting to love potions. I've come to seek assistance with something quite different.”

“Indeed,” replied Arshaka, “And what makes you think I'd be willing to help?”

“Nothing. But I'd hoped that what I have to offer might interest you enough to aid me.”

Laughter sounded from the depths of the chair, “What can you possibly have that would interest me? I have need of nothing.” The wizard's body faded in and out of sight as if to emphasize his point.

An amused smile played about Haer’Dalis’s lips as he replied, “I agree you appear lack little - except perhaps a body. But let us not play games. Raelis told me much about you. She said you were a spirit, but a powerful one still capable of rendering magic. I've no intention of offering gold but thought perhaps you'd be interested in an exchange of knowledge.” He crossed his arms, leaning back on the cushions.

The spirit eyed him for a moment before finally saying, “I see you're cleverer than your appearance leads one to believe. But I suppose I should have known that a friend of Raelis's would be no fool. What precisely are you offering?”

“What knowledge would be of interest to you?” countered Haer'Dalis.

“Ah…that is the crux of the matter, is it not? For my interests are not…typical. I seek the unique, the unusual, the unknown.” 

“And ‘twere my offer to be one of those things?”

“Then I might be willing to help you. What is it that you need?”

Haer'Dalis looked searchingly at Arshaka but could not read anything in his gaze beyond polite interest. “I need to turn back time,” he said in a low voice.

The figure in the chair leaned forward, “You begin to interest me exceedingly. Why don't you tell me your story and let us see if we can strike a bargain.”  He listened quietly as Haer'Dalis told his tale.  When it ended, they sat in silence for a few moments with Arshaka staring into the fire. Haer’ Dalis noticed that while it crackled and burned brightly it did not seem to provide any heat.   _I wonder how much else in this room is an illusion,_ he thought but said nothing, waiting for the mage to speak.

Finally Arshaka said, “So…your friend is from a different world. Perhaps even a lost world. And you are in possession of a rather unique spell – a time scroll in fact.  Acquired less than honestly no doubt, for the Lady of Pain does not bestow her gifts lightly. Still, you have intrigued me and for that I might be willing to aid you if I can. Might I see the scroll?”

Reaching into his pouch, Haer'Dalis pulled out the scroll and started to hand it to him. Now that the moment was come, he was reluctant to part with it for he began to feel as though he were handing over his last link to Jen. He began to pull back but shadowy hands reached out and took it from him, unrolling and perusing the document carefully. At last the mage looked up, “This spell is meant to be used only by the caster.”

Haer'Dalis's face fell. “Is there no way you can cast it for me?” He thought quickly, “Or perhaps you know of a way to increase my skills so that I might use the scroll.”

Nodding, Arshaka said “Yes, it can be done, but the method is not without risk and you must consider that the Lady may exact a price also for given that her mark is upon it, I doubt one can use the spell without her knowledge.”

“All things have a price. Tell me what you propose.”

“I can help you use the scroll only if you and I are one. What this means is that you will have to open your mind to _me_ temporarily and allow me to have control. This is not as simple as it sounds for most beings do not easily give jurisdiction of themselves to another. It requires the utmost trust for if our minds meld imperfectly it will cause injuries from which _your_ mind may never recover. And I think that you in particular - a tiefling -will not find that so easy to do.”

Haer'Dalis looked at the floor. “No, ‘twill not be easy,” he said in a low voice. He remained with his eyes downcast for several moments before finally looking at Arshaka. “Is there no other way?”

“None which I know of,” replied the mage somberly.

The room was still for several minutes and then Haer'Dalis said, “As much as my heart longs to see Jen again I do not know if I can do what you ask.” He put up a hand to rub his eyes saying softly, _“_ _When I consider life, 'tis all a cheat. Yet fool'd with hope, men favour the deceit; Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay. Tomorrow 's falser than the former day._ _”_ _ **[ii]**_ __

“You need make no decision tonight,” answered Arshaka. “But go now and consider what I have said and should you decide to take up my offer you may come back in the morning. I'll need time to prepare in any event. It is not a spell to be cast lightly.” He handed the scroll back to Haer’Dalis and slowly vanished from the chair.  He did not reappear, making it clear this was a gesture of dismissal.

After several minutes, Haer'Dalis rose and left the room. He did not look back.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

As he made his way through the now-dark streets, Haer'Dalis considered what he had learned. He had known his appeal would bear a price but had expected that the mage would, in time-honored fashion, send him on a quest to kill an enemy or retrieve a valuable object. Instead he had been asked to do something even more difficult; give complete control of his body - of _himself_ -to another.

 _He remembered his last conversation with Jen.  What was it she’d said?  Something about finding that t_ rusting others isn’t such a bad thing? _True perhaps but doubt has saved my life often enough. I watch my own back. He’d lived by that adage for a long time. Yet if I do not trust this spirit, Jen cannot return._  He knew he didn’t need her – he didn’t need anyone; his life had been proof enough of that. His purpose had long been to foster the advance of entropy and decay and he knew could actively take it up once again and go on. _There are always other loves. I **can** live without her. I have always done so before._ He winced at this last thought, knowing that while the thought might be valid, for some reason he truly regretted this particular ending.

He continued on, paying no attention to direction but allowing his feet to carry him where they would. He was therefore somewhat surprised to find himself in front of the _Iron Rose Inn._ As he walked through the door, Tristan sprang up to greet him and he saw that Yoshimo was with her.  “Haery! I'm glad to see you. I’ve been waiting – _we’ve_ been waiting - for some time. Where have you been?”

“I've been out.”

“ _Obviously_ ,” she said, frowning. “But I've been worried. We've come to tell you of the arrangements that Yoshimo has made for Jen's burial.”

Haer'Dalis looked at her, “’Twas not necessary.  In any case I would ask you not to allow anything to be done to her until tomorrow.”

“Why not?” she asked curiously. “What do you have in mind?”

He briefly described his discovery of the scroll and subsequent discussion with Arshaka. Tristan listened carefully to the tale, patting him sympathetically on the shoulder when he finished and saying only, “This decision must be yours for only you can decide if the risks you must take are worth the outcome. But know that should you need me - need any of the company - we will help as best we can. For now, Yoshimo and I will go to make sure that nothing happens to Jen's body.”

She turned to leave but Yoshimo shook his head. “Go on without me, my friend, I'll come to you later.”

Once she was safely out the door, he turned to Haer'Dalis, “Although you chose your words carefully, I sense your discomfort with what has been asked of you.”

“You are not the first to point this out and while this Sparrow knows it to be true, he fails to see what business it is of yours.”

“It _isn't_ my affair,” replied Yoshimo. “However, I would simply remind you that there are many ways to achieve the same end. I offer my aid if you will take it.”

“I see,” replied Haer'Dalis stiffly. “But why should I believe _you_ would want to help _me_? Our acquaintance is brief and even if it were of greater length, there is shadow about you that belies whatever camaraderie you might profess.”

A look of pain crossed Yoshimo's face, “Perhaps it is a form of recompense; not to you, but to myself. Some time ago I made a serious error in judgment and what you sense is that which has been laid upon me as consequence of my actions. I cannot escape my own fate, but I think I can suggest a means to change yours.”

Haer'Dalis’s eyes searched Yoshimo’s face for a moment before he finally said, “Tell me what you will.”

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

An hour later Haer'Dalis entered his room once again where he found the unfinished bottle of Firewine.  This time he did not drink from the bottle, but instead retrieved a cup from his pack and poured himself a glass before going over to sit on the edge of the bed.  He began to ponder, trying to think logically about the problem at hand but his mind balked at the task, so instead he began to think of Jen.

 Like so many other aspects of his life, his relationships had been ruled by the tiefling adage of self-sufficiency and protection.  He’d therefore kept himself well-armored against attachments for those were dangerous.  As an actor, he’d learned to use feelings much as one would a variety of costumes; wearing those appropriate to the occasion and changing them just as easily.  _Why am I so reluctant to change now? Perhaps_ , he thought, ‘ _tis because there is a certain charm in being liked and accepted_.  For Jen had seemed to see beyond his masking roles of actor and bard and been clear that she did in fact like _him_.  And he had found himself responding; had allowed her to see more of the real Haer'Dalis than he had permitted anyone since he'd been very young and that in and of itself was telling for it suggested genuine connection. __

With a groan, he put the cup down, flopping onto the bed and burying his face in the pillow, mentally reviewing his conversation with Arshaka.  He was prone to grand gestures and had told the mage that he was not easily frightened, but the thought of allowing another being to enter his body and take over his mind scared him witless. _What if something happens? It could all be for naught and I could end up a mindless monster with no other purpose than to be a spectacle for the curious._ The notion appalled him but a single thought poked its way through the fear – _Jen is worth the risk._

He sat up and tossed back the cup's contents, then reached out to retrieve the bottle and pour the remaining liquid into it. He stared down into the blood-red depths for a long time before finally swallowing it.  Then, placing the glass back on the table, he lay down once again to stare at the ceiling, lost in thought until he fell asleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. http://www.friesian.com/karma.htm  
>  2\. Aurengzebe. Act iv. Sc. 1., John Dryden (1631-1700)


	31. Back to the Future

_But I account it worth  
All pangs of fair hopes crost—  
All loves and honors lost,—  
To gain the heavens, at cost  
Of losing earth. _ [ **_[i]_ ** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/150647/chapters/#_edn1)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Haer'Dalis awoke early the next morning with something sharp poking into him. Groggily he put out a hand, feeling along his side until he encountered a long thin object.  It took a few moments but in the end, he realized it was one of his swords so he set about the task of untangling himself.  The sword was recalcitrant, resisting all his efforts. Finally his slow-moving mind realized that the most efficient solution was to get rid of the sword belt buckled about his body.  He undid it and with a great heave, pulled both belt and swords from beneath him tossing them to the floor where they landed with a loud thud. Both movement and sound sent a sharp pain lancing through his temples. _The wine.  I shouldn't have finished the bottle last night._ He lay still for a moment willing the throbbing inside his skull to cease and eventually managed to crawl from beneath the covers and over to his pack, trying not to retch as he searched for the herbal mixture he kept for such occasions.  Cursing softly, he rooted through the bag’s jumbled contents.  Eventually however, he found the phial and drank it, shuddering as the first mouthful of cold liquid ran down his throat. After a moment, his body’s pain began to lessen and he looked at the now-empty little bottle in gratitude.

He remained seated on the floor for a few more minutes, massaging his head to remove the last vestiges of headache and as he did so, his hopes and fears of the night before came back to him in full force.  He refused to dwell on them, putting aside his disquiet with a stern reminder to self about the futility of dwelling on possible outcomes without any real evidence. _Conjecture will neither protect me nor bring Jen back._ With that he threw himself into action, getting up and dressing quickly before opening his pouch to double-check its contents. The scroll was still there as was a curiously carved piece of stone.

He'd been surprised when Yoshimo had handed it to him the night before although he suspected that the offer had been entirely unplanned. He picked it up, tossing it gently up and down as if weighing it. It fit comfortably in his hand. His fingers traced the raised and polished whorls on its surface which responded to his touch, vibrating in a way that made his fingers tingle, nearly causing him to drop it. Yoshimo had claimed that it was a _meanmna_ or spirit stone but Haer'Dalis had not quite believed him for although he'd heard tales of such stones they were not easily obtained and Yoshimo did not seem like a man sufficiently wealthy to afford such a rare treasure.   _He_ had certainly never seen one before. The stones were said to lift the bearer's spirits and ward him from harm and as he slipped it into his pocket with a smile at Yoshimo's thoughtfulness, he devoutly hoped the stories were true.

He left the inn, making his way back to Waukeen's Promenade. Although it was early morning, the air was already warm and humid. The city was bustling with merchants setting up their stalls for the day. Several called out to him, holding their wares enticingly towards him, but Haer'Dalis ignored them all, intent on reaching Arshaka's home.

Upon arrival, he knocked at the door which swung open just as it had the day before. He entered cautiously, making his way to the pile of cushions near the brightly burning fire and settling himself comfortably to wait for the room's owner to appear.

Soon a voice emanated from the depths of the chair, “So, you've come back. Have you made a decision?”

“I have,” he replied firmly although he truly did not look forward to what lay ahead.

“And are you ready to open your mind to me?”

Haer'Dalis nodded reluctantly, “I am. However, I would ask you to indulge me by answering a few questions, for it occurs to me that you are most eager that I accept your proposed solution without exploring others.”

“And what would you have me say?” Arshaka asked. Haer’Dalis peered at the chair but spirit mage remained concealed. “You've asked me to help you cast a spell whose design is to fold time in upon itself in a most unusual way.”

“'Tis true I need your help, but yet I wonder if there are not alternatives to giving my mind to you quite so – wholeheartedly," Haer’Dalis replied, frowning.

“Certainly,” Arshaka replied, “There are always alternatives.  You could be compelled, rendered insensible, given a mind-numbing potion - all are alternatives to _voluntarily_ opening your mind. However, I prefer to offer a choice which is based upon free will rather than coercion in any form.” Haer'Dalis looked at him thoughtfully but before he could reply, Arshaka continued, “'The price I ask _is_ high, yet I would not have it otherwise for I have lived long enough to know that beings tend to value those things which cost them most dearly.”

 _Yoshimo suggested the same alternatives, yet we did not discuss the merits of free will._ Aloud he said, “And what of you? Surely you too must gain something from the exchange to be willing to go forward with such a risky venture.”

Arshaka laughed, “You _are_ a bold one, still questioning my intentions and yet I daresay, still intending to ask for my help.” He looked at Haer'Dalis, “This is a rather unique situation. It’s not often one comes across such an unusual spell or the opportunity to join minds with one such as yourself, so you might say that I do it for knowledge and experience.  After all, there is little enough one in my condition,” he suddenly materialized in the chair, waving a hand down the length of his body, “can do for excitement.”

“Ah. So you wish the experience of living again, albeit briefly?” Haer'Dalis asked.

“You might say that, although the thrill is somewhat less than you might imagine, for I do not feel a full array of physical sensations, not even when sharing a body. However, the mind gives off an energy which is quite…invigorating,” replied Arshaka.

“So you feed off me while casting the spell and draining all my vital energies simultaneously?”

The mage shrugged.  “A crude but accurate description of the process; still, the energy I consume is but a small part of what your mind may generate and as long as your mind is open,  will do no lasting damage. I give you my word.”

They stared at each other for a moment; Haer’Dalis exerting himself to read what he could from the mage's expression of polite and somewhat scholarly interest.  Sensing no particular malevolence in the being in front of him, he finally shrugged.   _I don’t like it but my decision is made. _No need to prolong this.__ Aloud he said, “I accept the cost. What must I do?”

A smile flickered across Arkasha's shadowy face. “You've taken the first step. Now make yourself comfortable; sit or lie down - it matters not, but you must be able to relax both your body and mind. Once that has been accomplished I will come to you and link our minds. You will feel a slight push as my mind joins with yours– do not resist, but instead allow it to wash over you as the sand does an incoming tide. It should not hurt if you are ready to accept it.”

Haer'Dalis nodded. Now that the moment had come, he felt surprisingly calm.  He took a slow, deep breath, drawing his mind inwards and focusing as he would if preparing to cast a spell, while simultaneously reaching into his pocket for the _meanmna_ stone. He held it loosely in his hand, his fingers tracing its ancient patterns. As he did so, he felt the light tingling he’d noticed before start to flow into his fingers, up his arm and through his body in a manner that was strangely soothing. Between the familiar mental exercise and the calming influence of the stone, his body began to relax and he sank back into the pillow, staring up at the ceiling, willing himself into a trance.

After a while he realized that he was no longer lying on the floor but looking down on the room as if from a great height. The ceiling had vanished into black nothingness. He floated for a moment, at ease in the vacuum and then panic struck him as he saw his body slumped, seemingly lifeless on the cushions below. But even as the desire to regain bodily control came upon him, the void called, pulling him back into its comforting embrace and his fears fell away.

He forgot about Arshaka's presence until he felt another consciousness slipping through the cracks of his carefully woven mental armor.  Remembering the mage's warning, he forced himself to remain calm as the presence streamed into him although his instincts were to drive the intruder out. At first he maintained his open state but suddenly and without warning, a barrier seemed to snap into place and pain shot through him. He felt himself falling and then suddenly he was back on the floor, his body flailing in agony until overcome with pain he passed out.

When he awoke a short time later the pain was gone. Sitting up, he looked around and saw that the fire had gone out, leaving the room with a strangely empty feeling. A swift stab of disappointment shot through him as he realized his attempt to join with Arshaka had failed and the mage nowhere in sight. _What had happened?_ “Arshaka!” he called and waited but nothing happened. “Arshaka!”

He sat in silence for a long time, berating himself for his failure. Finally he rose to his feet, intending to leave. As he did so, a flicker of light caught his eye. Glancing towards the fireplace, he saw flames beginning to spring up on the hearth once again as Arshaka suddenly materialized in the chair.

“Fool! Did you think to trick me!?” The mage’s angry voice boomed and echoed in the quiet room.

“Trick you? asked Haer'Dalis.

“I told you the choice must be made _freely_ and you agreed, yet did not tell me carried a spirit stone! While I'm aware of many things, I'm not omnipotent! Did you not feel what just happened as our minds began to meld?”

“Of course I felt it! How could I not? And I intended no trick.” He drew the stone out of his pocket, holding in his hand. “Last night a…friend gave me the _meanmna_ stone and I brought it in hopes that it would aid in our venture, not prevent it.”

Silence fell over the room as they glared at each other and at last the mage sighed, “It is true, the stone will make you less vulnerable to harm, but it also complicates matters for its purpose is to sustain your spirit and protect you. Although you meant well, the stone must have sensed your discomfort with our joining and reacted on your behalf.”

“I understand,” Haer'Dalis said, rubbing his eyes. He stood up to stretch his aching muscles and then began walking around the room, lost in thought. Finally he came back to stand in front of the mage, saying simply, “I think I know how to remedy the problem. If you're willing, I'd like to try again.”

Arshaka said nothing but sat looking at him in silence as Haer'Dalis looked at him pleadingly. Finally he nodded, “I am willing but should I feel the least resistance, I will _not_ continue until you dispose of the stone. Are we agreed?”

Haer'Dalis nodded. Reseating himself on the cushions, he began breathing slowing, drawing himself inward; refocusing.  This time it was easier to slip into a light trance. As Arshaka's mind touched his own, he felt the stone throw a protective web over him. He concentrated on the web, creating an image of it in his mind and then visualized himself reaching through it to take Arshaka by the hand and draw him in.  The mage's touch, at first tentative, became stronger and he soon felt the essence that was Arshaka seeping into him, wrapping itself around his own core. _It's getting a little crowded in here,_ he thought fleetingly.

 _You must let go, Haer'Dalis._ The words echoed in his mind and he knew Arshaka had spoken to him. He willed himself to release all conscious thought and was soon rewarded by the mage's soft mental whisper, _Better. Shall I continue?_

Yes, he answered and opening his eyes, took the precious scroll from his pouch, spreading it across his lap. The spell sprang out at him, the lines glowing with suppressed energy. His excitement grew as he recognized the increased power within him was allowing him to read and understand the words on the parchment in front of him. 

 _You're now seeing the scroll as I see it,_ said Arshaka, his tone one of amusement, _but the joining is not yet complete for although we are together, your mind is still active. Are you ready for me to proceed?_

Haer'Dalis acquiesced once again feeling his own essence fading back into a small corner of his mind as Arshaka's moved to the forefront. Although his senses were still functioning and he could still see and hear his surroundings, he felt distanced from them as if in a dream.

As he watched, the blended being of Arshaka/Haer'Dalis read the scroll one more time and then focused inwardly, preparing to cast the spell. His hands and arms moved in an arcane but familiar rhythm as he chanted and a great surge of power rolled through his body as the spell began to take shape, pushing outwards until the walls of the room disappeared. Soon he was floating through space, finally coming to rest in the center of a great swirling vortex that appeared in the surrounding darkness. Tiny pinpoints of light winked in and out of its murky center at random intervals, swirling around and past him, dancing across the heavens.

The maelstrom began to slow, stopping at last as if frozen in place. He reacted by making a counter-clockwise motion with his hand as if stirring a giant pot and the vortex slowly began to turn once again, reversing itself. A feeling of fierce triumph came over him for he somehow knew without being told that he was seeing time reverse itself. Then without warning, a voice came out of the darkness and the vortex disappeared as if it had been ripped away by a giant hand.

“There is a time for some things, and a time for all things; a time for great things, and a time for small things. Choose thine own time wisely.” [[ii]](http://archiveofourown.org/works/150647/chapters/#_edn2) The voice rang out, the words echoing with enormous and terrible authority.

“My Lady, I've been expecting you,” he heard Arshaka say in response.

“Expecting me? Yes, I suppose you did Arshaka. Oh yes, I recognize your psychic signature, however I was not speaking to you but to the bird trapped in your cage. I would speak to him without your interference.” The air shimmered and he felt a slight loosening of his bond with the mage. Surprised, he turned to face the direction of the voice, fear spurting through him as he recognized the presence of Sigil's Lady of Pain.

“I freed you once a long time ago Sparrow, when in a generous mood. Why have you tempted fate by coming back into my presence? Surely you knew I would appear when you tried to use my spell?” The voice boomed in the stillness.

Haer'Dalis peered upwards but the Lady's blinding appearance prevented him from seeing her clearly. Not for the first time he wondered what she was but the androgynous face wrapped in a coronet of light, it edges flickering with tongues of blue and orange flame gave no hint as to the realities of the being's sex or origin.

He tried to answer but for once his glib tongue refused to respond immediately. When words did come they faltered and tripped out of his mouth. “L-Love. I do it for love.”

“For love. How _nauseatingly_ sentimental,” the being said mockingly. “So, my little Doomguard, you thought to cheat fate and save your lady through cheap machinations and clever jurisprudence?” It chuckled, the sound echoing around him.  “Oh, don't be so surprised. I know of the debate between your desires and beliefs, Haer'Dalis. I can see it in your mind!”

“Who so loves, believes the impossible,"[[iii]](http://archiveofourown.org/works/150647/chapters/#_edn3) he replied softly.

Laughter thundered around him. “Insolent as always! You _are_ entertaining Sparrow and for that I will allow you to continue. But although you have amused me, you shall pay a price for your impudence both in stealing my scroll and testing my forbearance. You enjoy your freedom, do you not? Life is so simple when responsibility for one’s choices can be easily waved away as part of a natural cycle; as part of one’s _purpose_. Yet for all your protestations of death as destiny, perhaps you’ve found there _is_ something more.” 

He looked at the Lady questioningly and she responded by saying cryptically, “The sea of time ebbs and flows. And ‘twill neither be hurried nor slowed. Change allows you to keep knowledge and treasure.  Fail to learn and it is lost forever. Choose wisely Sparrow.  I will be watching.”

With that, the Lady disappeared and a wind sprang up, bringing with it the reappearance of the maelstrom. Arshaka's presence surged to the forefront of his consciousness and once again Haer’Dalis felt himself become a blended being. He watched as Arshaka’s arms – _his_ arms - rose imperiously, commanding the vortex to stop and begin to turn back on itself. Faster and faster it spun, counterclockwise, until the twinkling lights within it blurred and he watched them, mesmerized as they drew him in and sent him, spinning and tumbling, back down towards the prime material.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Haer'Dalis awoke at the _Iron Rose Inn,_ with bright morning sun streaming in the window. It was already hot and the room filled with a muggy, sticky heat. _Such strange dreams!_ He stretched mightily and then stepped out of bed.  He felt different somehow although he couldn’t quite put identify any particular change. And for some reason he found himself consumed by a strong desire to see Jen; a desire tainted by a niggling irrational fear that she was not safe at the O’Brion’s but had somehow disappeared.  The desire he could understand but the concern made no sense to him at all.   He decided the only logical way to stop endlessly circling in his mind was to disprove the thought entirely so he once ready, he made his way downstairs and through the common room breathing deeply as he stepped into the crisp morning air and onto the city streets, walking briskly towards the O'Brion house 

A maid answered the door at his knock, “Good mornin' Sir. What's your business?”

His heart moved into his throat as he said, “I'm here to see a guest of your mistress's. Jen Griffith. Is she in?”

The woman responded by inviting him to step into the house. Once inside, she showed him to a small parlor and waved him towards a chair saying, “Please wait here while I go fetch Miss Jen.” She left the room and disappeared. 

Time seemed to slow to an imperceptible trickle as he waited impatiently in the little room. Finally, the sound of Jen's light footsteps echoed in the long hallway and he sprang towards the door, reaching it just as she entered the room. A vast feeling of relief flooded through him at the sight of her and he smiled tenderly as she approached, although somewhere in the corner of his mind he questioned the feeling, for its strength puzzled him. It had not been so very long since he had last seen her, after all. Pushing the thought aside, he caught up her hands, drawing them to his lips as his eyes searched her face. Then he could stand it no longer and pulled her into his arms, bending to touch her lips with his own and kissing her deeply. She responded to his caresses eagerly, but finally broke away to look up at him, her eyes brimming with laughter. “I'm glad to see you too,” she said, “But as the saying goes, 'Time and tide wait for no man.' As much as I'd like to continue this…conversation, I'm afraid that if we don't go soon, we'll be late for Anomen's test.”

Mentally consigning Anomen's test to the deepest hell, he responding by pulling her closer, “He can wait,” he replied.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Sir Marmaduke's Musings, Theodore Tilton (1835-1907)  
>  2\. Don Quixote, Part ii. Chap. xxxv., Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra (1547-1616)  
>  3\. Aurora Leigh, Book v., Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861)


	32. Deja Vu

D _éjà vu (noun):_ ** _1._** _the illusion of remembering scenes and events when experienced for the first time;_ ** _2._** _a feeling that one has seen or heard something before;_ ** _3._** _something overly or unpleasantly familiar._

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was late afternoon by the time Haer’Dalis finally found himself on his way to the Government District to keep his appointment with Lord Roenall. He was in a pensive mood for he had awakened that morning with a feeling that something essential had changed in his life; something he should remember but for the life of him, he couldn’t think what it was.  As the day progressed he found himself plagued by the continual suspicion that his conversations and actions were but echoes of ones that had already occurred. He wondered whether the persistent familiarity of his every move was a flash of prescience or simply some weird repetition of events long past. He rather thought it to be the latter for he had no talent for clairvoyance nor did he believe that the Fates were likely to provide one with advance notice of one’s destiny. It just happened.

Given his somewhat haunted state of mind, he hoped his confrontation with the errant lord would end well. Lord Roenall had shown himself to be a man driven more by compulsion than by skill or common sense; a man full of bluster without the ability to carry off the simplest ruse. _The way a man plays says much about him._ In fact, the more he thought about it, the more strongly he felt it a good thing that the nobleman had never had to live entirely by his own wits for he would surely not have survived to his present age.

The sound of marching feet coming from behind drew him out of his reverie and he turned to see a patrol of guardsmen. They went past and turned the corner, the metallic clang of their armor and weapons providing a rhythmic counterpoint to their footsteps. The sight reminded him of Isaea Roenall and he wasted a few seconds wondering whether he was truly prepared for the upcoming encounter. _The father will fold easily enough but the son is another matter. I must not underestimate Isaea._ His confidence dimmed for a moment and he reflexively sucked in a deep breath to steady himself. _Keep moving. All will be well. ‘Tis just dress rehearsal nerves - or what was it Jen called it? An oddly musical word. Déjà vu?_

The word took him back into his feeling that the day had been extremely and distinctly odd. He’d approached the O’Brion residence, consumed by the thought that Jen wouldn’t be there; that something had happened to her. His fears made no sense to him at all for he remembered walking her to the door the previous afternoon and he truly doubted she would have come to harm in the interim. Still, he’d been much relieved to see her.  The odd feeling that _something_ was different; that _something_ had changed persisted and as the morning had worn on, his discomfort had grown, particularly after they joined their companions at the Radiant Heart Temple to witness Anomen’s test for he found himself predicting the words and actions of each person only to have his foresight confirmed.  He’d become silent, withdrawing as he tried to make sense out of what was happening.  He knew Jen had noticed and was therefore not in the least surprised to come under her cross-examination once they had parted from the others. And although feeling somewhat foolish, he had finally shared his feeling of otherworldliness - of _repetition_.

“It sounds to me like you’re experiencing a touch of something people on my world call déjà vu,” she had said. “It means ‘already seen.’ But it’s really just kind of feeling – a sense - that one has seen, heard, or done something before when you really haven’t. I don’t think anyone can explain it but I can understand how it might be unnerving to have it happen all day.” She’d grinned, “I know it’s probably unlike you, but maybe it’s just performance anxiety. We _are_ going to the Roenalls today.”

The Government district gate rose up in front of him, a further reminder of what lay ahead. He stopped in its shadows, drawing his focus inward. _Aidan D’Asturias. I am Aidan D’Asturias from Waterdeep._ He visualized himself as he looked in disguise; a tall blonde human male dressed quietly but with elegance. _I am the son of a wealthy family who has rejected his family’s way of life, choosing instead to live by my own wits._ The brief mental exercise brought him back into character, helping him regain his poise. _Now to find Yoshimo._ He stepped through the broad arch, pausing just inside to look around until he spotted three men, Yoshimo among them, standing next to a building. They did not move, but instead watched him approach, their expressions wary and their hands never far from their swords.

He reached them and stood watching in turn, his head cocked to one side, wondering if Yoshimo recognized him but finally the Kara-Turan said, “Ah Aidan! It is good you’ve arrived. I was about to send someone after you for it seems we must move quickly. The Roenalls are planning to leave Athkatla.”

“Oh are they?” Haer’Dalis felt his blood begin quicken with excitement although a tinge of uneasiness remained. “Then let us spring the trap, my Hound. Send one of your men to find Tristan and tell her the plan is in motion.”

“I’ll go,” Yoshimo replied and then gesturing towards the two men beside him added, “But first let me introduce you to Aretas and Malichus. You asked for witnesses to your meeting and they have agreed to join you. I think you will find they are both quite skilled should you run into trouble.” Haer’Dalis nodded, eyeing the two men appraisingly. Both were armed with long swords and from the slight creaking and jingling sounds that emanating as they moved, it was clear that they each wore mail under their clothes. For all their apparent respectability, they looked like men well used to taking quick and deadly action.

Haer’Dalis bowed, “Aidan D’Asturias at your service.” He looked at Yoshimo saying, “I’ll see you shortly,” before heading down the street towards the Roenall residence, the two men trailing after him. The sight of a large travel carriage standing in front of the house, bags and boxes strapped to its roof brought a dour smile to his face.  After pausing for a moment to assure himself that Entropy and Chaos were securely tucked into his belt and his disguise intact, he knocked on the elaborately carved wooden door. It was answered by a harassed looking servant who stared curiously at them as he opened the door.

“I’m here to see Lord Roenall,” Aidan said.

“The Roenalls are unavailable,” the man replied. “You’ll have to come back another time, sir.”  He made as if to close the door but stopped as Aidan stepped forward, pushing the door further ajar.

“Lord Roenall is expecting me.”  He smiled pleasantly at the manservant’s discomfiture over the intrusion saying in a blandly conversational tone, “It would seem that the family is planning to leave Athkalta.  Not the wisest course of action under the circumstances, but certainly understandable.  Given the nature of our appointment, I’m sure your master would prefer matters to be handled discreetly.  So what are my options given his apparent unavailability?  Let’s see,” Aidan stroked his chin thoughtfully, “I _could_ have him arrested. His friends and acquaintances might appreciate that given since it appears that his lordship plans to skip out on some rather pressing obligations. Although I doubt _he’d_ enjoy the experience.  Alternatively, I could search the house,” his tone became pleasantly conversational, “just to verify whether he’s truly unavailable…assuming you’d like to continue this charade of course. ‘Tis your choice.”  He moved forward again, his companions on his heels.

The servant’s face took on a slightly alarmed expression and he fell back a couple of steps.  Aidan smiled and pushed past him and into the large main room closely followed by Aretas and Malichus, “I suggest you take us to Lord Roenall.  If he questions why you did not deny him, simply tell the truth. You had no choice.”

“Bu…,”

“You have another alternative?”

The servant shook his head and his shoulders drooped slightly as he waved resignedly towards a door at the far end of the living room.  The door opened into a large study where Aidan found his lordship seated at a desk. Lord Roenall did not look up. “It’s about time you came back, Isaea. Your mother is nearly ready to leave.”

“I _do_ hate to be the bearer of bad news,” said Aidan, “But it isn’t Isaea. Perhaps you’ve forgotten our appointment?”

Lord Roenall jumped to his feet and turned towards them, his eyes wide with shock. “Forgotten? No…no, of course not.”

“Oh good. I can see you’re busy, so I won’t keep you long. This will take but a moment – just your signature on this document…unless of course, you’re prepared to redeem your notes of hand?”

Lord Roenall drew himself up and glared at the three men, “And if I’ve changed my mind?”

Aidan sighed. _Must we continue this game? The man is so like a rooster, puffing and strutting about. Next he’ll be telling me that once Isaea and Nalia are married he’ll clear his debts and that should I try to take my story to the authorities, no one will listen to me._ Aloud he said, “Your conversation becomes redundant, sir and I tire of it. Are you waiting for me to offer additional persuasion? I would prefer otherwise, but if you insist my friends and I will oblige.” He placed a hand on Entropy, drawing the sword partway from its sheath.

The older man chuckled grimly, “My son will marry Nalia De Arnise within a few days and I’ll have the means to clear my debts. There is nothing you can do to harm me. Besides, do you really think you can destroy me without retribution falling on your own heads? Have you forgotten my son’s position…his connection to the City Guard?”

Aidan sighed again as the feeling that Jen had termed “déjà vu” returned. _‘Tis like performing in a play when one has not quite memorized the part; I feel I should know the words, yet I do not._ Looking up, he saw Lord Roenall staring at him and replied, “How could I forget your son’s position? But as I’ve said before, you are Nalia’s guardian and as such, sworn to protect her fortunes, not abuse them. Should wind of this come to the authorities, Nalia will have grounds for ending your claim to her guardianship and perhaps even to the handfasting. Come. Sign the document and release Nalia to me. I’ll return your notes of hand and this unpleasantness will be at an end.”

He went over to the desk and placed the document on it, smoothing it flat. Then he picked up a quill, dipping it into the inkwell and holding it out towards Lord Roenall who reluctantly came over and took the pen, looking at the document with loathing before sighing loudly and scrawling his name across the bottom of the paper.

Lord Roenall watched as Aretas and Malichus followed suit, signing as witnesses.  “I hope you’re satisfied,” he snarled.

“Very much so,” answered Aidan, sprinkling clean sand on the signatures to preserve them. He rolled up the document, stuffing it back into the pouch at his waist. It was done and yet, he sensed there was something more to come.

“And now, if you’ll send for Nalia, we’ll leave you in peace.”

As if on cue, they heard the voices in the outer room. Malichus went over to the door to look out and then gestured to the others. With a last glance towards Lord Roenall, Aidan and his companions left the room and found Nalia and Jen seated on a divan near the study door. A tall, burly woman, obviously a guard, stood nearby. Aidan ignored the Amazon, making his way towards the two young women saying, “Miss De Arnise. Nalia, I bring good news.”

“Oh? What news could that be?” asked Nalia.

“Why news of your good fortune. I know you have longed to return to your friends and it is now possible.” He glanced at Jen with a smile and continued, “But we can discuss the details later. For now, let us just say that there is now nothing to bar you from leaving this house.”

“B-b-but, there’s a legal agreement between our families…. How can I be free?”

Again a feeling of unpleasant familiarity swept through him followed by a strong sense of foreboding. _We have no time to discuss this. Isaea is coming._ He didn’t know what prompted that last thought but he knew it to be true. Turning back to Nalia he said hastily, “We should leave quickly – perhaps through another door. I fear this is not the best place or time for explanations.”

“Not so fast,” came a voice from behind and they turned to see Isaea Roenall coming through the front door followed by several guards. “Did you really think my family foolish enough to give in so easily? Nalia isn’t going anywhere.”

“Perhaps,” drawled Aidan as he stepped in front of the two women, fingering the hilts of his swords, “you are unaware I hold the winning hand. Your father has already signed a document remitting her to my care and in exchange I have promised not to go the authorities, either with information about his debts _or_ some of _your_ recent activities.”

Isaea laughed, “I know who you are D’Asturias, and what you’re trying to do.”

Aidan grimaced and rolled his eyes. _I knew it. Methinks we’ve played this scene before. _Aloud he said, “Are you so sure? Appearances can be deceiving.”

Isaea laughed, “Yes they are, aren’t they? Did you really think I wouldn’t investigate a stranger in whom my father showed such interest? I’ve learned a great deal about you in the last few weeks. My men have followed you everywhere and talked with your so-called friends. You’re rumored to be the scion of a wealthy family, but in fact you’re nothing but a rogue. You and your colleague,” he nodded at Jen, “thought you’d found an easy mark, didn’t you? A foolish old man and silly young woman. Perhaps it was easy to gain their confidence, but I know you for what you are and will prevent you from taking any further advantage of my father - or my wife.”

“I’m _not_ your wife, Isaea! And Jen doesn’t know Aidan! She met him at the Skytower’s ball just as I did. Honestly, you _must_ stop seeing conspiracies everywhere!” Nalia snapped.

“ _Really_ , Nalia. Such simplemindedness does not become you. _Of course_ your friend knows D’Asturias. Before she went to Lila O’Brion’s they were staying at the same inn. Did she not tell you? No, I can see from the surprised look on your face that she didn’t.” He smiled sarcastically, “Perhaps it just slipped her mind.”

He turned back to Aidan, “You can give me the document you mentioned or I’ll take it by force before escorting you to your new lodgings. Prison cells may be less comfortable than the accommodations to which you’ve become accustomed, but I think you’ll find them well suited to such as you.”

Aidan gave him a sardonic smile. “I’ve suffered worse. But I suspected you might be reluctant to allow us to leave and thus have not come unprepared. Before you make any rash moves consider the implications of an account book that has fallen into my possession -a book which, in fact, chronicles a number of your ah - _alternative investments._ Before I came to meet with your father, I left this book with my friends, along with instructions that should I not reappear within the hour it be taken to the authorities. And somehow I’m sure your superiors will find it of sufficient interest to necessitate initiating their own investigation.”

Their eyes met and held each willing the other to back down, but finally Isaea shook his head. “No, you know nothing. Nalia stays with me. But if you’ll give me the document in your possession, you and your _friends_ ,” he spat out the word, “may leave.”

“This is all quite entertaining my dear Isaea, but you underestimate me. I do not give up any more easily than you. If you want either this,” Aidan patted his belt pouch, “or Nalia, you’ll have to take them from me.” He glanced at his companions who drew their swords and moved closer to him.

Isaea drew his own sword and with his guards behind him, advanced upon the group, “If you’ll not give them up willingly, then I’m happy to persuade you by other means.” He raised his sword, moving towards Aidan. The two men came together with a crash while Nalia and Jen scrambled backwards away from the fight.

The combat was brisk yet within a few minutes, Aidan found himself fighting somewhat mechanically. He’d seen Jen rushing back towards the couch and the sight filled him with alarm for although he knew her to be safely out of the way, he felt she was somehow in danger. His sudden distraction did not go unnoticed and Isaea used took advantage of it, his sword sliding past Aidan’s guard, stabbing upward towards his unprotected throat. Aidan knocked the blow aside at the last minute and as the fight continued, willed himself not to look at Jen again.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As the parties came together, Jen backed up until she reached the wall behind a large couch. She knew she was of no use against armed men unless she could find a weapon; preferably one used from a distance and as she looked around, she suddenly realized that the large and elaborately decorated shelves behind her were covered with a number of small but useful objects. Smiling at her good fortune, she turned towards the auspicious stockpile and was soon happily assaulting Isaea’s company from behind the couch with a barrage of small but expensive works of art.

A man she didn’t recognize came towards her, locked in combat with two of Isaea’s guards. _Two against one really isn’t fair_ she thought and threw the object in her hand. If the enemy guard was surprised to see a small black marble cat appear suddenly before him, he did not say have time to say so before it caught him between the eyes. He fell to the floor with a crash. Malichus smiled, saluting her briefly before another one of Isaea’s men caught his attention. Pleased with her success, Jen gathered up more figurines, moving closer to the skirmish.

Another man came towards her his sword raised and Jen hefted a figurine, testing its weight. She drew her arm back, preparing to throw it only find herself being seized from behind. She staggered and then tried to turn and fight but was brought up short as her arm was twisted unceremoniously and painfully behind her back.

Her captor chuckled nastily in her ear and she froze, recognizing the voice, “Careful my dear. For all that I don’t look like a fighter I _do_ know how to use this. And believe me, I will if you don’t do as I say.” The pricking left her side and moved to her throat as he began to pull her with him towards the door into his study. Once safely inside with the door locked, the stiletto left her throat and she tried to break free; an act that she quickly realized to be a mistake as Lord Roenall caught her arm and pulled her back.  “Certainly, a greater price can be exacted if you wish. It will be far easier on you if you cooperate.”  He drew the blade lightly across her neck, the stiletto leaving a thin trail of blood in its wake.

She winced but tried to remain still although her legs refused to cooperate and she found herself trembling. _He wants to scare me; wants to know I’m afraid, but I won’t give him the satisfaction. I_ ** _won’t_** ** _._** “Point taken. What do you want from me?” She tried to speak calmly, but the words caught in her throat, coming out in more of a squeak.

“Why your aid in retrieving something that belongs to me, of course.” he answered. “And I’m sure you’ll prove quite useful for I doubt D’Asturias will be able to resist acting the hero. I heard what Isaea said.  D’Asturias is your partner, is he not?  Once he realizes you’ve disappeared from the room, he will undoubtedly come as eagerly to _your_ rescue as he did to my dear daughter-in-law’s and when he does he’ll give me that document and my family and I will leave - or else….” He stopped and smiled wolfishly, the stiletto’s point tracing a pattern across Jen’s neck and chest.

Jen’s teeth clenched involuntarily. _He’s nuts; absolutely bat-shit crazy and if I’m not careful he’s going to kill me._  Escape was not possible at the moment, at least without aid but given the sounds outside, she doubted help would be forthcoming anytime soon, so she willed herself to remain calm, hoping he would leave her alone although she feared otherwise for he was clearly enjoying her powerless state.  

As if reading her thoughts, Lord Roenall smiled nastily and said, “I shouldn’t make this too easy, should I?”  He pushed her onto a nearby couch, sitting down beside her and leaning forward until she could feel his breath on her face and hair.  She shuddered, her hands flying up involuntarily to push him away.

He grabbed her arms, “Turn around, hands behind you,” he said angrily. Not wanting to provoke him further, she complied, tears coming to her eyes as she felt her hands being bound together. He finished and turned her back to face him, and then moved closer to her.  She still tried to evade him by leaning away; an almost impossible feat given the awkwardness of sitting with her hands behind her. 

He watched her struggle for a moment and chuckled, suddenly reaching out to run soft fingers up her neck and into her hair. Disgusted, she twisted her head from side to side, but he persisted, his hand sliding down to caress her neck and shoulders as he murmured, “You really are quite pretty, my dear. So lovely. Almost as lovely as my son’s intended wife.”  She flinched as he grasped her arm, gently pulling her towards him. “Is there a problem, my dear?  There’s no escape from this room for either of us.”  This was true for the study was windowless, the only exit being the door.  “The battle still rages outside,” he continued, “so it would appear we have plenty of time to…get acquainted.”  He began stroking her check and finally grasped her chin, pulling her face close to his own.

Her bound hands prevented her from catching herself and she landed face down across his lap. She rolled, twisting away and sliding towards the floor.  He grabbed her at the last moment, yanking her back across his knees – right side up this time, staring down at her for a long moment. “Spirited.  I like that.  Still,” his wrist moved, the stiletto reappearing in his hand, “enough is enough.  But perhaps you find the feel of my blade exciting?”  He smiled as he drew another shallow line across her throat.

The sting brought tears to her eyes and she gasped softly. “Why are you doing this?” she rasped through the thick fog of fear clogging her throat.  “Why not try to get away while you can?”

“What? Try to get through the battle outside the door? I don’t think so.  We’re much safer in here for the time being.  Now really, I wouldn’t struggle so much if I were you. My hand might slip and then where would you be?  What’s the harm in a little – distraction?”

“Distraction!” she spat. “You slimy little sh….”

“Careful, my dear. You wouldn’t want to upset me. My knife is sharp and I’ve learned to use it well if I do say so myself. Would you like me to continue demonstrating my skill?” The hand holding the knife moved upwards, stopping next to her right eye.

“You _don’t_ want to hurt me. It damages my value to you as a hostage.” Jen tried to keep her voice steady.

“Then just relax my dear and you _won’t_ get hurt.” He pulled her up, settling her against him, one arm holding her in position while the other slid down once again to continue his exploration of her charms.

Shaking in rage and fear, she bit her lip, doing her utmost to keep her mind calm and her thoughts elsewhere while fervently hoping rescue would come soon.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The sound of the heavy front door swinging open caught Aidan’s attention and he looked up to see Tristan, Keldorn and Jaheira entering the room. After a quick look around Keldorn and Jaheira waded into the fight while Tristan headed for the stairs to rescue Nalia who had been taken prisoner once she ran out of spells. With a sigh of relief, Aidan also allowed himself a quick glance around to assure himself of Jen’s continued safety, alarm sweeping over him as he realized she was gone. He had little time to ponder her disappearance however for although the sudden arrival of fresh combatants had momentarily distracted Isaea, he quickly recovered and lunged forward. Aidan threw up his blade but could not stop the other’s sword from biting deeply into his shoulder. Fire lanced though him and he stumbled backwards, _Entropy_ slipping from his fingers. Yelling in triumph, Isaea leapt forward to finish the job but just then Aidan heard a hollow _thwock_ and as he watched bemused, Isaea tottered and fell.  A pleased laugh came from behind and Aidan looked around to see Jaheira smiling triumphantly as she reloaded her sling.

 _He’s stunned at the very least_ , Aidan thought, watching Isaea struggle to stand up. Certain of being least temporarily safe from attack, he bent over to pick _Entropy_ up from the floor. Blood ran down his arm, making it difficult to grasp the sword’s hilt but he finally managed it, staggering to his feet just as a tingling sensation washed over him, closing the wound and returning his strength.

Startled, he looked back at Jaheira again, this time in consternation for he did not normally allow himself to be magically healed. A Doomguard accepted wounds as a part of the natural order of death and decay. If it were his fate to survive, the wounds would heal on their own. This time however, he allowed himself only a brief glare before choking out a few words of thanks.

Jaheira snorted, “No thanks are necessary, particularly when so ungraciously given. I felt the company needed your skills if we were succeed in freeing Nalia; nothing more.”

He nodded, saluting her briefly before heading back into the fray.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jen sat still. Her blouse was in shreds and her throat and shoulders stung.  Although Lord Roenall had not committed the ultimate degradation, he had done all else in his power to humiliate and frighten her. No knight in shining armor had burst through the door to stop him and she had only been partially able to prevent his attempts at assault.  At present he was sitting on his desk, keeping one eye upon her, the other on the door.

She stared dully at the floor, listening to the ebb and flow of the battle outside. Suddenly voices sounded near the study door and she raised her head, as Tristan’s light tones and Keldorn’s deeper ones mixed with Isaea’s angry shouts drew closer. Lord Roenall also heard them and went to the door to listen carefully.

Finally the sounds of struggle ceased and Lord Roenall looked back at her thoughtfully as if weighing his options. Eventually he crossed the room to pull her to her feet.

“Go to the door!” he said pressing his knife into her side to encourage her forward. “Don’t try to fight me, my dear. I might decide that the effort isn’t worth it.”

The door shook again and again under successful blows until finally the lock gave way and flew open.   Aidan and Keldorn stood in the doorway, Tristan and Jaheira behind them.  Lord Roenall drew his breath in sharply. “Come no further if you wish the young lady to survive this day!”

Aidan stood stock still, looking at Jen, locked in Lord Roenall’s arms as a vision flashed before his eyes. Jen and Lord Roenall. A struggle. Jen on the floor- injured.   _Déjà vu? Actual memory? But if it were memory, when had it occurred? _He growled deep in his throat, angry with his own inability to remember. _I need to think…to understand, but there’s no time._ He shook his head, trying to clear the picture from his mind. _Stay in the moment_. He looked at Jen, trying to catch her eye and hoping his gaze conveyed reassurance although his mouth tightened as he noticed the torn and disheveled state of her clothing and the numerous cuts about her neck and shoulders. _What have you done to her, old man? You have much for which you must answer._ “What do you want?” he said aloud to Lord Roenall

The nobleman ignored him, staring over Jen’s shoulder at the remains of what had once been his living room. The bodies of the dead and wounded lay on the floor while the remainder stood in a corner guarded by several heavily armed men. All noise from the upper floor had ceased and there was no sign of Lady Roenall. Lord Roenall finished his survey, his mouth working. No sound came out at first and then he hissed, “My son! What have you done! Where is he?”

“He’s over there,” answered Jaheira, overhearing the question. She pointed to the divan. “He’s hurt but will live.”

Lord Roenall turned back to Aidan and Keldorn. “Do you still have the document?

Aidan nodded, his face grim. Keldorn shifted his stance, settling himself more firmly in the doorway and glared forbiddingly at Farrington Roenall.

Lord Roenall ignored the stern looks directed at him. “Well,” he said, “It seems as though you have carried the day after all. However, I may still have a trick or two up my sleeve.” He smiled nastily at Aidan, “I know you would consider this more tragic if it were Nalia, however, I must make do with what I have. Now then, if you want the young lady released, you will give me back the document I signed earlier today. After that, you and your men will stand aside and allow us to leave. Once we are safely in the carriage, I will release her. Just remember if anything happens, her death is on your hands.”

They eyed each other in stony silence punctuated by the groans of the injured guards. Finally, Aidan said, “What makes you think that her death has any meaning to us or that we would allow the needs of only one to be weighed against the needs of the many?” _‘Tis not true Jen, but I must play this part to its end._ “Still,” he continued, “I would prefer not to harm an innocent -. And we _do_ have your son and all his men…. He pressed his lips together thoughtfully, “In fact, I would say the odds are in _our_ favor. Perhaps we should be offering _our_ terms.” He smiled grimly, “Consider this well, my friend. Release the lady now and no physical harm will come to _you_ or your family.” He looked at Jen, his eyes full of silent encouragement. _You’ll be safe. Somehow._

Lord Roenall laughed; a high-pitched thin sound. “No. I’ll keep her to ensure your good behavior. Now, hand over the document and leave my house or she dies!”

“And what purpose would her death serve?” asked Keldorn. “For surely you know that if you harm her, there will be nothing to prevent us from harming _you_. Listen to H-Aidan. Give her to us now and we’ll leave. This matter will be at an end. Your family will be safe.”

“Safe? Safe?! By allowing you to walk out the door with the means to end my family’s good fortune? What good is it to be alive without wealth or influence? You think me a coward but I would rather _die_ than live like the common folk!”  Lord Roenall paused, his eyes searching the faces before him. “But I think my advantage is greater than you might care to admit for it occurs to me that even though you’ve overcome my guards and hold my son, you’ve made no attempt to overpower _me._ It seems that the young lady _does_ mean more to you than you’ve let on.” His lips drew away from his teeth in a desperate smile as he gently touched the point of the stiletto to Jen’s neck, “It takes so very little to end a life. Just a little more pressure on the edge and it will flow out of her. Do you really want to see that? I don’t think you do.”

“No!” Jen’s voice came out in a squeak. 

“Silence!” Lord Roenall snapped and then to Aidan, “Give me the document!”

Aidan looked back at Lord Roenall, his expression unreadable, “All right.” He pulled the document slowly out of his pouch, holding it a short distance away.  Lord Roenall began to reach for it then stopped. 

“No, I’ll not fall for that.  If I take the document, I have to let her go.  Give it to her instead.”  His hand tightened on Jen’s arm as he stepped back and quickly slashed through the cloth binding her hands together.  “Take the document!” he said commanded.  She reached out and took it from Aidan, holding it up so that Lord Roenall could see it.

“Move away from the door and towards the stairs or I’ll hurt her yet!” Lord Roenall said to Aidan and Keldorn. They obliged and then stood waiting but Lord Roenall didn’t move and Jen began to wonder what was wrong. Then it struck her.

“It’s quite a dilemma for you, isn’t it? I have the document and you have me, but you’ll have to let go of me at some point if you want to actually take the document.”

“Take it,” Keldorn urged from across the room, “Take it and let the girl go.  I will vouch for the safety of you and your family if you release her. Do not doubt the word of a Firecam.”  Jen felt the hand clutching her arm begin to tremble. She pulled away and turned to face the older man who held out his hand for the document, snatching at it as she held it towards him. It slipped between from his fingers, falling to the floor and she leaned forward involuntarily to pick it up.

Lord Roenall reached for her but she dodged sideways and realizing that he stood between her and the safety of her friends, she headed towards the fountain, intending to use its cover to lose him.  As she slid behind it, she looked back to see both Keldorn and Aidan heading rapidly towards her and she smiled with relief.  Then her heart plummeted as a hand grasped her by the shoulder. “Not so fast my dear. I believe you have something that belongs to me.” Her stomach clenched, both at the sound of the hated voice and at the feel of knife blade once again pricking her side.

He pulled her around to face him, “Now, no more tricks. Put the document in my pocket!” She obeyed, sliding it into his coat before he whirled her around again, drawing her close. “Not so fast. Your friends must keep their end of the bargain and allow me to leave.”  He looked up. Jen’s eyes followed his and saw Aidan standing just a few feet away, hands on his swords.

“Enough of this! You have what you want!” she snapped and seized the hand holding the stiletto with both of hers, simultaneously stepping hard on Lord Roenall’s foot. He gasped, his grip loosening and she jumped away. He yelled angrily and reached out, catching her skirt in his hand and jerking her back. She twisted in his grasp, kicking and struggling to free herself.

“You may have won this round, but you won’t win the game!” he cried and slammed the stiletto into her chest. She cried out, doubling over in pain and then fell to the floor. Lord Roenall turned tail, running towards the front door.

He had nearly made it when a hand came behind slamming him forward, then he too shrieked as _Chaos_ pierced his shoulder, pinning him to the wall. He writhed in agony and as the weapon was yanked away, slid to the floor leaving a long smear of blood behind him.

Aidan dropped to his knees beside Jen who was sitting upright on the floor, clutching at her side. Time slowed as he looked down upon her, his mind whirling. _Jen and Lord Roenall. A struggle. Jen on the floor bleeding. It _was_ a memory. But when had it happened? _

He had still had no time to ponder for Jen was looking up at him, her eyes searching his face. Blood dripped slowly through her fingers and a dark stain spread across her shirt. “Haery? It’s really you, isn’t it Haery?” There was an odd gurgling note in her voice.

 _Not déjà vu,_ he thought and pulled off the Hat of Disguise. “Don’t talk, my love. Be still.” Footsteps approached and he glanced up to see Jaheira hurrying towards them, “Jaheira is here and will help you.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

She was lying across Haer'Dalis's lap, her hand pressed against her side, trying to staunch the wound, blood soaking into her garments.  She began to feel weaker. As her vision blurred she felt her hand drop, falling onto her lap. There was a lump beneath her fingers and she clutched at it, recognizing it. _The portal gem!_ Her fingers scrabbled at the fabric and somehow drew it out of her pocket. “Haery. You should take this.” As their hands met, the stone grew warm, the golden lines running across it beginning to throb.

As Jen watched, the room darkened still further. She looked around and saw a pinpoint of light shining in the distance. The light source grew larger and more rectangular and as it reached her, she saw her brother’s shape framed inside.

“Ronnie!” she said, “What are _you_ doing here?”

“I’ve come to take you someplace safe, little sister. I think it’s time. It’s clear you’re not meant to be part of this world.”

“But Ronnie, you told me to choose and I have! I’ve chosen to be _here._ Why take me away now?

He shook his head with a smile, “I think it’s time.”

“But Ronnie...I don’t understand. Where are you taking me?”

 He smiled and held out his hand, “Come and see.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Haer’Dalis jumped to his feet, staring intently as a portal opened in front of him, a dim form framed in the light flowing out from it. The portal gem pulsed in his fingers, resonating with an oddly atonal sound, solidifying the opening.  The dark form slid through, pushing him away before bending over Jen.  Jaheira came up and also tried to reach Jen, but the figure moved between them, before raising Jen to her feet and as Haer’Dalis and Jaheira watched helplessly, helped her take a few shaky steps forward, enfolded in the its arms and disappear through the doorway.

Haer’Dalis hurried forward as the door’s light began to fade. “Haery, what are you doing?!” cried Tristan and he stopped to look back, one foot in the portal, the other in the Roenall living room.

He smiled wearily at Tristan, “It would appear that this play has yet another scene or two before it’s finished. Obviously, ‘tis my cue!” And with that, he stepped through the portal leaving his companions staring after him in stunned silence.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jaheira stood next to the spot where Jen had lain, the confusion that stretched across her face mirroring that on the face of the others in the room. “W-Where have did they go?”

Tristan shook her head, “I don’t know.”

“But she was hurt badly. Look at the blood on the floor. She can’t survive unless she’s healed.” Her tone was anxious.

“I’m afraid you’re probably right,” Tristan sighed, “All we can hope for now is that whatever – or _whoever_ took her can heal the wound or that Haery will bring her back in time for us to so.”

“Her fate is surely in the hands of the gods,” Keldorn said somberly, overhearing their conversation. “We can do nothing more for Jen – or Haer’Dalis at present so I would suggest that we finish our business here and go. One of us, your friend Yoshimo perhaps, can wait here to see if they return.”

They looked at each other and then turned to look at Nalia who had also come forward to stand ashen-faced, next to Tristan.

“This _cannot_ go unpunished,” she said angrily.

 “It will not,” replied Tristan and put her arm around the young woman, leading her back to face the Roenalls.


	33. Revenant

Soft darkness enveloped Haer’Dalis as he moved away from the portal. However, light shone in the distance and he headed towards it. As he drew closer he saw them – Jen and someone he didn’t recognize walking; heading for an unknown destination.  Portals being the strange things they were, he was oddly grateful to have stepped through and not only find himself unscathed, but have spotted his target immediately. He knew all too well that that entering an unknown portal could literally mean stepping into hell itself.

“Jen! My Kestrel, is that you?” At the sound of his voice, she turned and ran back, the other figure – a human male by his appearance _–_ behind her. Haer’Dalis hurried forward and as they met, they threw their arms around each other, laughing with delight. As he kissed her his heart gave a queer little jolt at the confirmation that the soft warmth under his lips felt solid and realand he knew he’d feared she’d become some kind of ethereal being – a lost soul or worse - that he had no way to reach.

As the kiss broke off, she exclaimed, “Haery! How did you ever manage to get here?”

 He smiled tenderly at her, “I saw a portal opening and could not let you go alone, my love.”

She grinned back happily, “I’m so glad.”

“Your wound. We must find some help…” he began, but she shook her head.

“No need. Look, it’s gone!”

Looking down, he could see that the wound was indeed gone as were the many cuts inflicted by Lord Roenall. Only her clothes were still in a state of disrepair. She shrugged at his look of surprise, “I don’t know how it happened, but the pain stopped when I stepped through the door. I guess Ronnie must have done something.”

“Ronnie?”

“My brother,” she said and gestured over her shoulder. Haer’Dalis looked up to see a young human male coming towards them. He stopped a short distance away, watching them dispassionately and Haer'Dalis noticed that he did indeed look like Jen although his features still bore the soft shape of early youth and his hair was dark where hers was light.

‘Tis far more likely that this is some sort of spirit. You’ve said yourself your brother is dead.   Why do you believe it’s him?”

The boy came to stand beside Jen and she let go of Haer’Dalis to put an arm around him. “Of _course_ he’s my brother. Who else would know the things about me that he does?”

Haer’Dalis looked at her and then back at Ronnie, his gaze skeptical, “I suppose ‘tis possible, but it seems a rather striking coincidence to me.”

The young man laughed, “I guess you’re right. It probably does seem odd to have me appear so unexpectedly. But I’ve always been with Jen, even when she didn’t know it. I always thought one was supposed to go someplace when one died, but some of us just don’t. I was one who couldn’t leave at first - the ties were too strong. When I finally began wandering, I somehow found my way here. I’ve always been able to see Jen and hoped that someday she could see me. Then when she stepped through that portal…well, let’s just say _your_ world is nearer to mine than hers and it gave me a chance to make contact; to really talk to her again and then when she di…uh well, let’s just say under the circumstances, it seemed best to bring her here.”

Jen gave him a puzzled look, “What!? What are you talking about?”

Ronnie turned to his sister, “We have a long time ahead of us Jen and I’ll tell you everything, I promise. But first we have to figure out how to get your friend back to where he belongs, cuz he can’t stay here. This place isn’t for the living.”

“Not for the living…” she echoed. “Are you saying that I’m… _dead_?”

He smiled at the vehemence in her voice, “No, you’re not _quite_ dead, Jen. But you wouldn’t have survived much longer. Your spirit had started to leave your body which is why you were able to see me and follow me through the door unaided.”

“Ronnie, what is this place? And if it’s not for the living, then how did Haer’Dalis get here?”

“It’s hard to explain. I guess one way to describe it is to say that you’re standing within a ribbon that winds around and between what your friend here would call ‘the planes.’ A lot of us have found our way to this place and I think once you see what it offers, you’ll think it’s rather wonderful too. You can’t see anything now, but there’s so much you can do! You can make this into whatever world whatever you want, Jen. It’s like being in Disneyland or something except it’s more real.”

She looked around dubiously. “If you say so. And his name is Haer’Dalis.”

“Right. Anyway, like I said, I could bring you here because of what happened to you. As for _Haer’Dalis_ ,…I don’t know what allowed him to come through the door.”

“Do you think the portal stone…,” she asked and Haer’Dalis nodded.

Ronnie looked from one to the other. “So…you have portal gem. Interesting.”  He turned back to Jen, “But your friend doesn’t belong here. He’s - well he’s completely alive and he needs to go back. He _should_ go back,” he said sternly and she gave him a puzzled look.

“Why? Why does Haery need to back? He’s here and I don’t see anything happening to him so why couldn’t he stay if he wanted to?” She stepped closer to Haer’Dalis and he slid an arm around her. 

“Even were I inclined to stay, it seems my love, that I’m not wanted,” he said.

“You _can’t_ stay,” the boy broke in. “You can’t be happy here; none of the living can. They can’t appreciate it in the same way as one who’s lost everything - like I did. They always want something more.”

“But,” Jen replied, giving her brother a hard look, “you said I’m not quite dead and as the saying goes, ‘mostly dead is a little bit alive.’ So doesn’t that mean I won’t be happy here either? And if I’m still a little bit alive, doesn’t that mean I still have a choice? What if I choose to go back?”

“Oh Jen, trust me. You’ll like it here. We have so much catching up to do and there are so many things we can do together!”

She stamped her foot, “That’s not what I asked!”

“Perhaps he doesn’t want to answer, my love, because you _can_ choose and he must honor whatever choice is made,” Haer’Dalis said.

“It that true?” She looked at Ronnie “I won’t go any further until you tell me the truth.”

Her brother’s form shimmered slightly, “Yes,” he said slowly, “You can go back, but think about it Jen. This is a _great_ place to live and it can be whatever you want. Look – you want to go home, don’t you? Well, you don’t have to go back to Earth to be home, Jen. It exists here.”

“I don’t _understand_ ,” she said angrily.

Ronnie smiled, “No, I suppose you don’t. Let me show you.” He pointed into the distance, “Remember how much we used to like to camp by the lake? I can make the lake and our favorite campsite right here. I can bring your family back, Jen – _our_ family.”

Her eyes followed the direction of his arm, widening as she recognized the curve of sandy beach sloping down into the blue-green lake water. An old wooden jetty went out over the water, the lake’s small waves lapping gently about its sturdy piers. _Our favorite fishing spot_. Turning around, she saw a familiar blue tent next to a picnic table under the trees. As she watched, her mother came out of the tent and began to busy herself unpacking the campstove and dishes. A few minutes later, she heard the crunching of footsteps and saw her father coming down the hill from where he had parked the car. He walked into their campsite and picked up a fishing pool leaning next to the tent.

“Have you seen my tacklebox, Sarah?”

“Yes,” Jen’s mother replied, “It’s right here under the table.”

Jen put her hands over her mouth. “Oh Ronnie,” she said in a choked voice.

He looked back at her, startled by her tone. “Oh Jen, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I thought it would you happy to see them again.” His voice trailed off into sheepish silence.

Her eyes widened as she shook her head, “But it isn’t **_real_**.”

“Sure it is,” he replied, “It’s as real as anything you’ve ever done. I think maybe it’s better even, cuz it’s safe here. You can do what you want and never have to worry about being hurt or dying or anything ever again.”

 Her eyes narrowed, “Why is it so important to you that I stay? You must be getting something out of this otherwise why not just create _me_ along with everything else?”

“It’s important because you really are here and I’ve missed you. And I’m worried about you. I want to keep you safe and I can do that now.” He shook his head, “I guess you don’t know what happened. It’s kinda weird…but this is the second time you’ve lived through today. You…didn’t make it the first time and I brought you here then as well, but your fr…Haer’Dalis wasn’t willing to let you go. He doesn’t seem to remember, but he somehow managed to change things – give you a second chance.”

Jen cast a startled look at her brother and then shot a quick look towards Haer’Dalis whose face also bore a rather stunned expression. “I…died?” Her eyes fell as she struggled to absorb what she’d just heard. Finally she turned to Haer’Dalis, her eyes filling with tears. “Is it true, Haery?”

 _I changed things?_ His mind went backwards; as he once again he saw Lord Roenall stab Jen his feeling that it wasn’t a flash of déjà vu but a _memory_ grew stronger. “I don’t really remember, yet somehow I do think it true,” he replied slowly.

She stared at him and then looked away.  He heard her say, “ _God dammit, no_!” in a choked and angry voice as she hugged herself, shivering compulsively.  He went over and touched her back gently and she turned, burying her face in his shoulder, her body rigid and stiff in his arms.  After a moment she stepped out of the protective circle and he saw that her eyes were brimmed with tears. She wiped at them with the back of her hand as she drew a deep breath and looked up at him, “I _hate_ crying, but thank you.”

“There’s no shame in crying,” he replied, “’Tis said that joys and tears alike are sent to give the soul fit nourishment"[[1]](http://archiveofourown.org/works/150647/chapters/#_edn1) He put his arm around her again, drawing her close and then turned back to Ronnie. “So if what you say is true - that somehow the course of time has been reversed, why you did not wait to see what fate had wrought this time? Perhaps she would have been healed. Or did you want her company so badly that you would force her choice rather than allowing it to be made freely?”

Ronnie looked at him impassively, “Dying is hard. I didn’t want her to go through it a second time. She _is_ my sister after all and while Jen’s pretty self-sufficient we all need help sometimes. I figured I’d better take care of her since you didn’t do it.”

“And what if I didn’t need help? Yes, I get it; something awful happened but maybe I could’ve been healed. It wasn’t too late!” Jen snapped. “Although it _is_ justlike when we were kids. You always tried to protect me. But you can only learn if you make your own mistakes. I thought from all the advice you’ve given me lately you finally understood that.” She stared at Ronnie as if seeing him for the first time, “You know, speaking of advice, I have to say that it seems to me you know an awful lot for a thirteen year old.”

Ronnie shrugged, “True, I still look thirteen, but I’m not anymore. In some ways I’m still alive and growing just like you. And I’ve had a lot of time to watch and think about things. I’ve met other beings out here and I’ve learned from them as well.”

“Are you sure you’re my brother?  I mean I dreamed about you and you told me to trust myself. Have you changed your mind?”

“Yeah.  I can do that now – enter dreams I mean. And no, I haven’t changed my mind.” He sighed, “I guess I’m still being your big brother. So tell me, _do_ you trust him, Jen? Enough to risk going back?”

“This really isn’t about Haery, is it? Or even about me, really.  It’s about you.  You _need_ something from me, don’t you?  As to going back, I know that I _want_ to if that’s what you’re asking.”

“’Tis not about keeping _her_ alive but keeping yourself alive,” Haer’Dalis broke in. “You can’t exist without her dreams, her feelings, her memories, can you?  Yet you need her consent to access them. That’s why all subterfuge; the pretence of being her brother.” __

Ronnie ignored him to concentrate on Jen, pleading, “Please sis… I-I won’t keep you here against your will. I only ask that you make an informed choice. Before you choose, please…give me one more chance to show you what I – what you can do if you stay.”

She shook head, “No. It isn’t real.  Y _ou’re_ not real. And besides I think we’ve found a way for me to go home so there’s no reason to pretend. And if I can’t get home, then I’ll stay on Faerun. At least it’ll be my choice.”

“C’mon Jen.  There’s a lot of benefits to staying here. You’ll never grow old and you can make the world whatever you want it to be.”

“ _You_ were the one who said that the living can’t be happy here. And I _am_ still living and I _will_ survive.  If you’re really my brother – well, you _always_ tried to have your own way, but you can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do. Not anymore!”

They glared at each other for a moment and then his face fell, “I really am your brother. _You_ make me real.  Are you sure you won’t reconsider?”

She looked back and forth between Ronnie and Haer’Dalis, her face uncertain. “I don’t really believe you’re real but if you _are_ ….”

Haer’Dalis’s arm tightened around her shoulders and he murmured, “Parting is always painful and I know that if you choose to stay I should accept it as love’s inevitable ending. I have always done so in the past, but this time I find cannot consent as easily to that fate. For my part I think this is _not_ your brother but a lost soul who knows it’s dead but doesn’t know where to go. Such spirits linger, creating reality from the memories of the living so they can go on living themselves.”  She looked up and saw his face was calm although his eyes were dark with unhappiness. “‘Tis a difficult choice my love.”

She slid an arm about him in turn, squeezing his waist reassuringly. “You’re right, it seems real in some ways which makes the choice difficult but since I’ve demanded one, I must make it. I’m going back with you, Haery.”

They exchanged smiles, her own becoming slightly wicked as she said , “I’m sorry, Haery, I _know_ this would have been an easy out for you, but I’m afraid you’re not going to get rid of me as easily as you have all your _other_ girlfriends.”

He laughed, shaking his head, “Then I think we understand each other well, my Kestrel.”

“Yes,” she replied and then turned to the spirit. “I can’t stay. I do miss my brother, but Haery’s right. I don’t know that you _are_ real. I want to go back.”

He nodded sadly, “As you wish.”

“If you’re truly my brother I’ll see you again, Ronnie.”

“Sure you will. I’m keeping my eye on you whether you like it or not.” He glanced at Haer’Dalis, “Try to keep her safe, will ya? And don’t give me any of your baloney about entropy and the fates deciding – just do it.”

“I will do what I can…and what Jen will allow,” he answered.

Ronnie nodded and then said, “I guess you should go.” He made a motion with his hand and the outlines of a doorway appeared in front of them. “There’s your door. I can probably get you back, Jen but Haer’Dalis will have to use his gem to be able to get through.”

“I’ll use one made by the portal gem; go with _him_ ,” she replied.

“As you will.” The spirit shrugged.

Haer’Dalis reached into his pocket, pulling out the stone. It began to glow, the soft light seeping out of its seams reaching towards the already formed door which began to shimmer.  They stepped forward together and through the portal but as Jen’s feet met the floor of the Roenall living room, she clutched at her chest, gasping with pain.

“Her wound! It was not healed on your world,” hissed Ronnie from behind them, “It did not exist at all in mine.” He looked at Haer’Dalis, “Make her well if you can. If not, I’ll be waiting.” He nodded towards Jen who had sunk down onto the floor, much in the same position she had been in before his earlier arrival and then disappeared, the lighted door fading away behind him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. He Sendeth Sun, He Sendeth Shower, Sarah Flower Adams (1805-1848)


	34. Final Round

A hubbub of activity arose as Jen and Haer’ Dalis reappeared in midst of the Roenall’s wrecked living room.  It seemed as though no time had passed since their disappearance for the room was still in disarray, small groups of survivors huddled together, the Roenalls in one corner under close guard and the bodies of the slain still lying where they had fallen.

Nalia was the first to reach them and made as if to throw her arms around Jen only to be stopped by Haer’Dalis. “Hold your welcome. She needs Jaheira’s attention first.”  Nalia nodded and drew back, making way as Jaheira hurried to where Jen sat slumped on the floor, Haer’ Dalis kneeling to support her. Jaheira’s hands and lips moved in a healing spell and the air in front of her began to glimmer as a light blue haze flowed from her fingertips. Jen became aware of a warm tingling sweeping around and through her and the pain in her chest receding. 

Jaheira bent over, her eyes on Jen’s face. “Still a bit weak?”

“Yes,” Jen replied.

“Better drink this then,” the druid said, pulling a small blue bottle out of her belt and handing it to Jen who swallowed the healing potion, making a face as the thick creamy liquid went over her tongue.

“Why is it that when something is good for you it tastes nasty?” she grumbled.

Jaheira laughed, “How else would you know it was good for your health? And if you’re complaining about it you _must_ be better. Now, how do you feel? Can you stand?”

Haer’Dalis stood, holding out his hand. She took it and rose to her feet to find that her fatigue had disappeared. “I feel much better actually - and relieved. I-I don’t know how to thank you, Jaheira.”

The druid shook her head. “There’s no need. It is Silvanus’[[1]](http://archiveofourown.org/works/150647/chapters/#_edn1) gift to give, not mine.” She stood up and Jen turned to Nalia who had been waiting patiently, throwing her arms around her friend for a quick hug.

After a few moments of celebration Tristan called them to order, “We were about to finish up here and leave. Under the circumstances it’s fortunate you reappeared before we left.”

Jen looked around. “I see the Roenalls are still here.  Now I know you had something in mind in case they didn’t simply release Nalia, but I don’t know what it is and I really _want_ to know because I have some ideas about what they deserve.”

“As do I,” Haer’Dalis added. She glanced over, noticing that his eyes were beginning to show flecks of the brilliant green that seemed to signal deep tension in him.

Tristan laughed, “I think you’ll approve although their fate will not perhaps be as brutal as you might feel is warranted. However, given their propensities, I think it is much deserved.” She glanced towards Keldorn who nodded, a grin spreading across his face. “Keldorn has a friend who is the Abbot of a monastery on the Sword Coast. He tells me their creed is one of austerity and good works.  When we began this venture, I had Keldorn write a letter to the Abbot asking if he would provide these,” her mouth quirked humorously, “poor misguided souls with an opportunity for penance.  Although the circumstances are a bit…unusual, he’s agreed. Yoshimo will take them there.  The Roenalls will disappear from Athkatla. The abbey is very remote; while merchant trains do stop, they will be kept closely watched so it is unlikely they could escape. And if they do they will be in the wilds where they would not survive for long. I think therefore, they will have plenty of opportunity to learn about the common folk, for they’ll be living the same life.”

Haer’Dalis’s face darkened, “’Tis not sufficient for what Lord Roenall did to Jen. He deserves death.”

Keldorn looked at him, “I daresay. Many who live deserve death and many that die deserve life. But that is in the hands of the gods…or fate, if you prefer. Yet there are times when those who commit evil deeds and live find themselves punished in way that makes them long for death. I suspect this will be true for the Roenalls as they experience life as it is for those less fortunate.”

Jen nodded grimly, “I can think of a number of things that I’d like to do to Lord Roenall, but you’re right. Living as a penitent – a commoner, will be a fate worse than death to him. No wine, women and song, that’s for sure.”

She followed the others across the room towards the group huddled by the stairs under heavy guard.  As Jen drew near them, she noticed that Lord Roenall had a bloody bandage covering one shoulder and looked quite ill.

“What happened?” she asked.

“He had a bit of collision with one of Haery’s swords,” Jaheira replied.

Jen looked enormously pleased. “And you didn’t heal him?”

“Oh, he’s had a sip or two of a healing potion. It’s made him well enough to travel but not so much that it will be a pleasant journey. I think he will find it a salutary lesson.”

Jen smiled nastily, “Perhaps we should provide him with a little antiseptic for the journey to help keep his wound free of infection. A little salt water perhaps? The sting can remind him of me.” She looked at Lord Roenall as she spoke.  He glared miserably at her as she laughed and looked away.

Tristan stepped forward and addressed Isaea, “I had hoped that Nalia could be returned to us in a manner that would have allowed you to retain at least a vestige of honor. However, even the best-laid plans go awry.”

“As I have heard it, the best plan is to profit by the folly of others[[2]](http://archiveofourown.org/works/150647/chapters/#_edn2), and I think this venture proves the adage,” said Haer’Dalis.

Tristan nodded, “Indeed. And now you,” she said to the Roenalls, “will pay the price. Nalia returns to us and you are headed to a place which one hopes will teach you the lessons you should have learned long ago.” She went on to outline the plan, much to the horror of her listeners.

“You can’t do this!” Isaea growled. “My guards will bring this to the attention of the Council. At the very least, a family as important as ours will be missed and an investigation will be launched. They’ll find you and then where will you be?”

“You never leave off, do you?” Haer’Dalis replied, his amusement apparent in both face and voice. “Same worn out threats, each time. I think you should hire a better scriptwriter. But to answer, I don’t believe any explanation will be necessary. Your guards will have nothing to divulge for memory is a funny thing when aided by a few coins. And as to your departure, ‘tis easily explained. Your family was planning to leave Athkatla as evidenced by the traveling carriage outside and I’m quite sure your mother will have told her dearest friend Lady Skytower that your family will be gone for some time.  I’m equally _certain_ Lady Skytower will have _thoughtfully_ shared this with all her acquaintance. And besides, once the news of your father’s failure to pay his debts gets out, your disappearance will be well understood. You’ll not be missed and there will be no reason for anyone to suspect anything at all.”

He exchanged glances with a grinning Tristan, who then gestured to the waiting guards saying, “I think it’s time.” And within a few minutes the Roenalls were been forced from the house and into the waiting carriage. Yoshimo slammed the door shut behind them, and with a few quick movements, bound it securely so as to prevent possible escape. Once finished, he gestured to several of his men who disappeared behind the house to return with their mounts.

“I guess you’re ready to go,” Tristan said to him. He nodded, walking over to Keldorn who handed him a sealed envelope, which he took, tucking it securely inside his jacket.

“I’ll deliver them safely.” Yoshimo turned to Tristan, “I hope you’ll allow me to rejoin your party upon my return.”

She nodded but did not reply, turning instead to climb upon the carriage step to look through the window at the vehicle’s occupants. “I do not know what will come of this, but I hope you’ll learn the lesson offered, as unpleasant as it might seem and that you’ll find peace within yourselves as well. You’ll stay with the good Brothers as long as it takes and if you’re _really_ well behaved, perhaps you can return to Faerun to work under Nalia’s tutelage to recompense those you have abused in the past.”

Lady Roenall who had been sitting in stunned and miserable silence next to her husband, roused herself to glare venomously at Tristan, “How dare you, commoner! What can you or your precious monks, possibly teach me?!”

Tristan laughed, “Quite a bit more than you might expect.” She jumped down, folding up the step and turned to Yoshimo, “Safe journey, my friend.”

He nodded and then sprang onto the box next to the coachman. The carriage started slowly forward and moved off, followed by the mounted men.

Jen had been standing silently, watching the Roenalls’ party prepare to leave. As much as she agreed with the suitability of Tristan’s proposed vengeance, she did wish that they had suffered more extensively. A shiver of anger passed through her as she watched the carriage start off and she whispered, “ _I hope you rot in Hell, you bastard_.”

“What did you say?” asked Nalia curiously.

“Nothing. Just sending my best wishes after the Roenalls.”

“Yes, that’s what I thought,” Nalia replied.

“Well, that’s over with!” said Tristan as the vehicle disappeared. She turned to Nalia, “You will rejoin us, won’t you?”

“Yes, but first I’m going to spend a couple of days with Nanny.” Nalia shuddered, “This has been one of the worst experiences of my life. I never dreamed Isaea could be such a-a jerk! And Lord Roenall…. Oh gods Jen, I’m so glad that you’re safe. And I _do_ thank you all for your persistence. Although Isaea tried to make me think you’d all left town, I never once doubted you would come for me.”

“You’ll not walk across town, either of you,” Keldorn said, looking at both Nalia and Jen, his eyes full of fatherly concern. “I think a carriage is in order and certainly we’ll be right behind you.” He looked at the others and gestured towards the gate.

Nalia nodded but Jen stepped back, “No, don’t want one. I feel fine, oddly enough and I want to walk but I need to be alone. So much has happened.  I really need to think and to clear my mind.”

Haer’Dalis shook his head, “I’ve not followed you between planes as it were to allow you to wander through the streets of Athkatla alone. I’ll walk with you my love, quietly if you prefer, but with you nonetheless. And besides, I dare not leave you alone for the spirit, wherever he is, will surely come back to haunt me for endangering your safety.”

She nodded soberly and then taking his arm, began walking towards the district gate.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Silvanus – Forest Father diety in Forgotten Realms; http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Silvanus_(Forgotten_Realms)  
> 2\. Natural History Book xviii, Sect.31, Pliny the Elder (A.D. c.23 - A.D. 79)


	35. Synchronicity

_Yes, love indeed is light from heaven;_

 _A spark of that immortal fire_ _**[1]** _

 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The river sparkled in the late afternoon sun as it flowed beneath the bridge.  Jen leaned against the heavy rail, staring down at the jeweled water. She’d been there for some time.

Haer’Dalis stood a short distance away, trying to maintain a close watch on her although he found his mind drifting as he pondered the events of the last few days.  His thoughts were somewhat disturbing for he realized that his feelings – and even his beliefs – had begun to shift in ways that were truly unexpected.  He’d had many love affairs and in all of them, he’d been careful to pledge only what he knew to be true - to love truly as long as love should last which, in his all too extensive experience, it never had. _Entropy is the fate of the multiverse, so why should_ ** _love_** _be exempt?_ Still, the knowledge that his feelings for Jen seemed to go beyond this simple statement of philosophy concerned him. _I said I was willing to stay with her. And ‘tis true._ The idea of losing her was surprisingly uncomfortable. Yet the thought that he might not _want_ to leave was equally distressing in its negation of his principles. It had been a long time since he had questioned what he stood for.  _But she never asked for such a promise._  A grim smile flitted across his lips. _All things change. And surely the demise of such long-held beliefs is a form of entropy in its own right._

He went to stand beside her, putting his arm around her as they watched the sun slowly sinking towards the horizon.  She leaned against him in silence, staring at the water. When she finally looked up she saw his eyes upon her and said, “I told you I was going to be quiet. I don’t want you to think that I don’t care about what’s happened. I do you know. I just have a lot to think about.”

“Aye,” he agreed, “We’ve both said and done astonishing things today.”

She nodded and covered her face into her hands for a moment. When she spoke her voice was muffled, laden with unshed tears, “Yeah, I think that’s true. You know, you surprised me today.  I didn’t expect you to follow me, Haery. And I really didn’t expect….” She looked up, shaking her head.  “So much has happened and I’m really having trouble taking it all in.  I _died_ , Haery. That’s what Ronnie – the spirit said. I _died_ _and apparently it happened more than once_ ….” Her voice trailed off and she fell silent.

“It appears so, although I admit I would give much to remember it.”

“That’s right – your feeling of déjà vu!  Maybe it really _is_ memory then.”

He nodded, “It seems so.  But come, my love, it’s been a long day and you’re clearly feeling the strain. Let me take you back to Lila’s.”

“No, wait,” she said, “I need to say something. I’ve been trying to understand what happened and how I feel about it. And for that matter, I keep wondering how _you_ feel about it. I mean today you did something that…well, I don’t know, just seems incredible.” Her expression became rueful. “I’m not making much sense, am I? I guess I’m a little afraid I’ll say the wrong thing or say too much.  It’s just that this all seems…rather unlike you. I’m grateful but I’m not sure I understand why you did it. Nalia has told me you won’t allow yourself to be healed or even use a healing potion so why would you try to…try to….” She took a deep breath. “Why’d you do it, Haery?”

“I’ve thought about that too,” he replied, “why I did it, that is, but truly there is nothing for you to fear. The truth is that I could not bear to be without you, my love. I told you once that I did not think my feelings for you would be short-lived and I still believe that.”

She smiled although tears sparkled in her eyes, “Thank you,” she said simply.

He pulled her closer, wrapping his other arm around her and they clung together for a few moments before he said once again, “You’re tired. Let me take you to Lila’s.”

“I don’t want go there. It’s too _normal_. I need to be alone. I need a bath. I need to wash _him_ away.”

Haer’Dalis face darkened at the mention of “him,” but he did not respond directly to it saying instead, “Perhaps you should return to your room at the _Iron Rose_.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right. But now that I think of it, all my stuff’s at Lila’s, so I’ll have to stop there anyway.”  They moved off into the darkness, their shoulders touching in comfortable closeness.

Lila’s home appeared a short distance ahead, light spilling out of the windows and onto the broad steps leading up to the front door. Jen had hoped her entrance would be innocuous but as she went into the house, Aoife came running out, having clearly been watching for her. “Jen! You’re back! Is Nalia safe? Why did it take so long?”

Jen clutched the little girl tightly and then removed the clinging arms saying, “Yes, Nalia is safe and by now she should be at your Grandmother’s. But it’s been a long day my dear and I really don’t have the energy to discuss it further. Is your mother at home?”

Aoife nodded, “I’ll get her.” She went racing down the long hallway, calling out the good news as she ran.

Lila appeared at the sound of her daughter’s voice, the broad smile on her face disappearing as noted Jen’s disheveled appearance and the bloodstains upon her clothing. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing,” said Jen firmly. “Or nothing I can talk about right now.” She paused for a moment and then went on, “I need to be alone, Lila. As much as I appreciate all you’ve done, I need to go back to the _Iron Rose_ and think. I’ll be ok. Haery’s with me.”

Lila nodded slowly, “Alright. I don’t like it, but I can see you’re upset. I’ll have the maid get your things. At least let me send for my carriage to take you the rest of the way.”

“I think it best,” agreed Haer’Dalis. “Jen, why don’t you let Lila’s coachman bring you back to the inn? I’ll go on ahead and make sure everything is ready.”

She smiled, “You’re no longer worried that Ronnie will come to haunt you if you leave me alone?”

He laughed, “Not at the moment. You’ll be safe in the carriage.” He kissed her and took his leave, disappearing quickly into the darkness.

Lila took Jen by the arm, leading her into the family room to sit by the fire while she arranged for the maid and the carriage. Coming back into the room, she sat down on a chair and turned to face Jen.

“You look terrible. What happened?”

“Lord Roenall…oh Lila, he was _awful_!”

The older woman reached out and took Jen’s face in her hands. “Whatever happened wasn’t your fault. You _must_ believe that.” She leaned over to pick up a small bell from the table next to her and rang it briskly, saying to the maid who appeared in answer to its summons, “Tea, please and quickly.” Turning back to Jen she said, “A cup of tea will make you feel better even if it doesn’t solve the world’s problems.”

The prosaic act of drinking tea comforted Jen and although she’d intended to say nothing, she found herself telling Lila what had happened with Lord Roenall. Lila listened in silence, getting up once to hug Jen, and at the end of the recital, reiterate her reassurance that it simply _wasn’t_ Jen’s fault.  When the carriage arrived, Lila saw her into it, pausing only to give the coachman strict instructions to see her safely to the inn’s door.

The drive took little time and soon Jen was walking into the inn. She felt tired and dirty, wanting nothing so much as a long and gloriously _private_ soak in her room rather than using the inn’s more public bathing facility. She headed into the common room, looking around for the innkeeper. Spotting him near the bar, she headed over and stopped in front of him.

“May I help you Miss?” he asked cheerfully. If he noticed the soiled and disheveled state of her clothing he did not acknowledge it.

“Yes. I’d like a private bath. How long until you can send hot water up to my room?”

“The water is ready. Shall I send it up immediately?”

She nodded and he turned away to comply with her wishes, shouting at a passing houseboy to take her belongings up as well.

Jen looked around and then hearing the sound of a familiar voice headed towards the small private parlor at the back of the inn where she found Haer’Dalis sitting near the window playing an oval-bodied stringed instrument whose melancholy tone was a good match for both his tenor voice and the tune he’d been singing. He rose when she appeared, placing the instrument carefully on a nearby table before coming over to take her into his arms. She leaned against him for a moment, absently noting that he’d removed his armor and feeling grateful for the comfort of his strength.

“I’m going upstairs to take a bath since it appears there’s actually hot water, thanks to you, I imagine. But I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be pleased to see you but I thought you wanted to be alone.”

She sighed, “True, but I’ve spent the afternoon thinking. I just didn’t want to be at Lila’s tonight, trying to pretend everything was normal - that nothing had happened. But I didn’t intend to exclude you…unless you want some time alone as well.”

“I’ll be here, awaiting your return, my Kestrel.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Haer’Dalis watched Jen disappear up the stairs before going back to the table to pick up his discarded instrument. The familiar feel of the strings and the dark tones of its voice suited his mood well. Seating himself, he drew the instrument close and began playing again but Jen’s interruption had redirected his thoughts back to the puzzling events of the day.

 _It hadn’t been déjà vu._ The idea troubled him for it seemed to signal a profound loss of memory. He went over things again, sifting through the each action, each activity, finally putting the instrument aside to rub his forehead in frustration. _I can’t remember_. Sounds of revelry could be heard coming from the inn’s common room but he ignored them, turning instead to stare into the room’s small fire as he continued to think.

He remained in this state until a loud crash followed by shrieks of laughter, brought him back. The fire was dying and he realized it had been quite some time since Jen had headed upstairs. He was caught by a sudden desire to see her, to hear her voice, touch her and otherwise assure himself that she was still with him and decided that since she had not come to him, he would go to her. Rising, he left the parlor, going first to put away the instrument and then headed down the hall to Jen’s room. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

After leaving Haer’Dalis, Jen made her way slowly upstairs. She was glad Tristan had allowed her to keep her room at the inn.  She opened the door to find the room’s lamps already lit and her bag and other personal items waiting at the foot at the bed. She pulled a long loose shirt out of the bag, draping it over the screen separating a stone tub from the rest of the room and swept her into a loose bun at the top of her head.  Her tattered clothes were left in a heap on the floor as she went behind the screen and slid into the warm water with a sigh of relief.  _So much to think about.  Ronnie…or whoever…whatever he was.  Haery.  Lord Roenall._ As the last name floated into her mind, she shuddered, feeling sick as memory rose up and she once again felt his hands on her body; his knife sliding across her skin.  Bile rose in her throat and she suddenly felt as dirty as if she had been rolling in sludge.  She writhed in an impulsive, involuntary movement that sent a small wave of water cascading over the edge of the tub, forming a puddle on the floor next to her. 

The sound of the water hitting the floor was salutary, jolting her back into the present. A washcloth and small chunk of soap lay on a small table next to the tub.  She reached for them and began to scrub furiously, her skin stinging under the rough treatment.  She ignored the feeling, wanting nothing more than to be completely and thoroughly _clean._ Tears rose to her eyes and she took a breath, trying to regain control but it was impossible. Even as she fought to contain her feelings, her eyes overflowed and she began to cry in earnest, her chest moving in huge heaving sobs. _Lila is right._ _I _didn’t do anything wrong. It wasn’t my fault.  And he paid for it.__ She cried for several minutes until the thought of Lord Roenall’s injury at Haer’Dalis’s hands as well as his subsequent fate began to penetrate her consciousness, soothing and calming her.  Finally she sucked in a deep breath and focused on bringing it as far into her body as possible, before exhaling slowly. _Let it go._ _Let it go._ She repeated the words, turning them into a mantra until eventually her mind obeyed and moved to more pleasant thoughts, allowing her to lay back soaking quietly until the water’s buoyancy and her general state of exhaustion lulled her into a light sleep. Dozing in the tub, she didn’t hear the sound of footsteps coming down the hall or the soft knock at the door.

“Jen! Are you in there?”

“Just a minute!” she called, grabbing a towel off the floor and drying herself quickly before throwing on her shirt and heading to the door.   

“What - missed me already?” she asked Haer’Dalis as he entered the room.

“You’ve been gone quite awhile. I was beginning to wonder if you’d drowned and rescue was in order yet again.” he replied flippantly, grinning at her.

“ _Really_ , Haery! I’d have thought you’d be used to waiting for women by now.”

He laughed. “True. But in my experience when a woman leaves for her room with a promise to return and does not do so, there are only two reasons. One – she wants to be rid of you or two -she wants to be followed.” He glanced at her light shirt and winked. “My dearest Jen, I _very_ much hope that you chose the second reason for not returning downstairs.”

Flushing slightly, Jen glanced down at her somewhat scanty attire. “I hate to tell you, but I actually fell asleep in the tub.  But I’m not sorry you came upstairs. ”

He smiled, drawing her into his arms.  The look in his eyes made her breath catch in her throat and her heart began beating rapidly as he began the serious business of kissing her thoroughly, his hands gently caressing her body. _His hands are much nicer than Lord Roenall’s,_ she thought and then stiffened in horror. Feeling her sudden resistance, Haer’Dalis paused, looking down at her.

“What’s wrong, Jen?”

She took a deep breath, “It’s Lord Roenall. I-I can’t get him out of my mind. You don’t know what happened.…”

He closed his eyes as if in pain, the corners of his mouth moving into an unhappy smile.

“I would do much to have prevented or at least undo whatever he did to you my love, but I cannot.” He drew in a deep breath, expelling it slowly, “Do you want me to leave?”

Tears welled in her eyes, “Yes. N-no,” she said slowly and then more firmly. “No. I don’t want you to leave.” She moved closer to him, nestling in his arms. His hands moved across her back in long soothing strokes, calming her. “It’s just…I’m so tired.”

She sensed disappointment and a measure of frustration in the catch in his breath and the reluctance with which he released her, but his voice was calm as he said, “Then we’ll rest.”   She watched as he extinguished the lamps and then returned to draw her towards the bed, holding her in his arms until they both fell asleep.   

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jen awoke a few hours later.  Her throat felt dry and scratchy; she needed a drink of water.  Disentangling herself gently from Haer’Dalis she rose, giving herself a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the room’s dim light before making her way to the water pitcher on the other side of the room.  She took a large swallow and then pulled open the curtains to stare out at the quiet garden below. The moon had risen; its thin beams seeping into the room, providing a small amount of dim light.   _I wonder how long I’ve been sleeping. It feels like it’s still the middle of the night._

A rustling noise caused her to turn and she looked back to see that Haer’Dalis had also awakened. He came up behind her, sliding his arms about her waist and pressing his lips into her hair.  She leaned against him silently and somewhat sleepily, enjoying the feel of his taut body against hers and comfort of his strong arms about her waist. They remained that way for several minutes and then his hands began to move slowly across the thin fabric of her shirt, stroking and caressing her as his lips moved to her ear. She shivered and turned in his arms, stretching up to give him a quick kiss.  He reached out, gently brushing away the hair falling across her face and gazed at her intently, the question in his eyes crystal clear.  She knew what he wanted. She wanted it as well and this time there were no memories or intrusive thoughts to inhibit her or make her hesitate.  Her hands slid up his back and she lifted her face eagerly, all traces of lethargy vanishing under the tide of needful euphoria sweeping through her.  Always vigilant, he took her cue, capturing her mouth with his own and kissing her deeply and hungrily.

It was some time before they released each other, but as finally they came up for air, he slipped his hands beneath her flimsy shirt, gently caressing her breasts and sliding it over her head. His touch sent a wave of heat through her and she moaned softly, the sound coming from deep within her throat.  She reached out to reciprocate, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders. 

Even in the dim light she could see that his finely muscled shoulders and torso were laced with the same type of wine-colored markings as his face.  She traced them with her fingers, enjoying the feel of his warm skin beneath her fingertips and mouth before beginning a determined assault on his trousers.  The mysteries of Faerunean tailoring, or at least of their rather complicated methods of closure - eluded her however and unable untie the knots simply by touch; she broke away, looking down in frustration.  “What I wouldn’t give for a zipper right now!” she muttered. He chuckled, his hands covering hers briefly as he helped her remove the last obstacle, leaving them both in a delicious state of undress.

By mutual consent, they found their way back to bed, kissing and caressing each other with an intensity that left no doubt of the eventual outcome. As the mattress rose up behind her, Jen eased onto it and lay back against the pillows entwined her fingers in the soft silkiness of Haer’Dalis’ hair,  stroking the edges of his pointed and beringed ears while his hands, lips and tongue moved over her, touching and tasting her curves. There was no room for thought or logic in what was happening; there was only instinct.  Reason was simply _gone,_ driven away by the strongest of natural impulses.  If she _could_ have formed a thought, it would have been short, brief and to the point; _Don’t stop_ -or simply, _more._ She moved against him, her escalating need recognized and matched by the increasing insistency of his body and mouth against her own.  Even so, intellect overcame instinct briefly as he raised himself above her for she noticed that his eyes had changed; transmuting to something stronger; brighter; more alien and t _he words_ ** _not_** _human_ floated through her mind, only to be forgotten in a final frantic tangle of limbs and lips that left them breathless and exhausted.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 Haer’Dalis stirred drowsily. His arm, caught under Jen as they'd fallen into contented, satisfied sleep, was tingling; full of pins and needles. He tried to shift carefully to a more comfortable position but his movement disturbed her and she moved away, stretching sleepily beside him. He rolled onto his side to look at her, smiling to himself as he wondered again why he'd spent so much time questioning what she meant to him rather than simply living in the moment.    _I’ve clung so long to the Doomguard creed_ , he thought ruefully, _yet where is philosophy in the heart?_

He sighed contentedly and she opened her eyes. "What?" she asked.

“That I’m glad you chose to come back, my Kestrel,” he said softly. “Earlier today you said you were afraid of saying too much; afraid I might leave. Yet I would not have it so. The spirit said that somehow time had turned and I was responsible. If this is true, then know that I have _never_ done such a thing before and did not believe that I _would_ ever be willing to do so much for anyone.” He shook his head, “I have many qualities, but constancy has not been amongst them. However, for your sake, I shall strive to make it so.”

“I have no right to try and make you be someone other than who you are.  Still I’m very glad to hear it” she replied soberly. She pulled herself up, leaning across his ches to kiss him. As she did so she observed that his eyes were their normal color once more and she smiled, her fingers moving over the dark lines under his cheekbones.

“Evidence of my heritage,” he said, as her fingers continued to trace the vivid wine-colored patterns that wound themselves around his body.

“I know,” she replied. “Your eyes change color too. So tell me, what _else_ did you inherit from your demon ancestors?”

He laughed, flipping her over so that now he was on top, looking down at her.  “Let me show you,” he replied, his eyes beginning to glow.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The Giaour, George Gordon Noel Byron, Lord Byron (1788-1824)


	36. Tristan and Anomen

Tristan lay on the bed, her eyes roaming across the ceiling of her room as she tried to force herself to sleep. She hadn’t slept well the night before and after the fight at the Roenalls, she was bone tired. However, the nap that had been so incredibly appealing on her walk back to the Kings’ Cottage was much less so now that she was actually trying to take it.   Unfortunately, even though quite tired, she’d not been able to rest until she’d removed her heavy armor and washed both blood and the worst of its rusty smell from her body and she suspected that the activity had been a little too invigorating.  

Her thoughts went back to the events of the day. _Nalia’s now safe as is Jen._    She had been – and still felt – astonished at Haer’Dalis’s determination to save Jen for he’d never struck her as having a particularly selfless nature and given his expressed beliefs, his actions had seemed quite out of character.  _Perhaps it’s true.  Perhaps love really does conquer all. _ Her mind shifted slightly, moving away from Nalia and Jen to a small, niggling worry that had been steadily worming its way forward. _I wonder when Anomen will be back; or if he’ll be back. _ She had not seen Anomen since his test that morning and Keldorn had been unable to tell her when he was likely to return.   _It’s only been a few hours but I miss him. And we could have used him today at the Roenalls’ although things turned out all right in the end._

A satisfied smile flitted across her lips as she remembered the look on the Roenalls’ face when she had told them of their fate. The smile faded a little as the further memory of the word Lady Roenall had spat at her. _Commoner_. It wasn’t precisely true and she knew Lady Roenall would be vastly surprised if she knew the truth of Tristan’s parentage, but Tristan admitted to herself that even the knowledge of her own semi-divinity didn’t really didn’t lessen the sting. 

She had never particularly cared what others thought for her father, Gorion, had taught her from the time she was very young to believe in herself and prove her worth through her thoughts and deeds. She’d never before wanted to be noble but for some reason, Lady Roenall’s sneering remark had bothered her more than she cared to admit. _Why_? She turned onto her side, burying her face in the pillow to ease the pain brought to her by the question’s answer. _Anomen._ ** _Lord_** _Anomen.  What would happen now that he’d been knighted?_

She knew that during all their time together, his family and his test had been very much on his mind and hoped that his success would now give him confidence.  Anomen so desperately wanted to prove his worth, both to himself and to his father. She had met Lord Cor but once; a loud drunken bully of a man whose repudiation of his son had angered and disgusted her. Yet even though Lord Cor did not approve of his son’s calling, she was sure that he, along with the rest of Amnian society, would still expect Anomen to marry well and restore the family fortunes and she wondered how Anomen, always so sensitive to society’s expectations, would respond. 

 _How will I react if he does choose to do what’s expected of him? For that matter, will the Order even allow him to continue traveling with me?_ The possibility of his leaving chilled her to the bone for even though he was frequently moody, she liked him. They’d become friends over the few months; thrown together by chance after she'd come across him in the Copper Coronet.  _More than friends, at least on my part.  His too if I’m reading the signs correctly._ She glanced at the crimson rhodelia sitting in a water glass on table next to her, marveling again at his strong romantic streak; something she never would have expected. When he’d given it to her the day before, he had compared her to the flower saying its beauty was no match for her own and the look in his eyes had nearly stopped her heart. 

She rolled over, facing the window, noticing for the first time that shadows were beginning to creep into the room.   _It’s getting late._  She rose to her feet and made her way to the wash stand to splash her face with water.  Just then she heard a knock on the door, followed by a familiar and very welcome voice calling her name.  Opening the door, she found her errant knight looking down at her. He too had discarded his armor for more conventional clothing and was at present, clad in a simple soft shirt and dark trousers.

 “My Lady,” he said and paused as his eyes caught sight of the rumpled bedclothes and her casual dress. “I’m disturbing your rest. I am sorry. Let me come back another time.”

“Sir Anomen,” she replied, equally formal and then burst into giggles, “Oh Anomen, knock it off and don’t you _dare_ leave. I’ve been wishing you here all afternoon. Have you come back to join…us?” She smiled – pleasantly she hoped - although her heart started to pound rather anxiously.

He reached for her hands which were swallowed up in his own much larger ones, “Yes, I have been given permission to rejoin you.”

 _Permission_. The word chilled her to the core as she realized what it meant. _The Order wants him to spy on me. Does he realize that?_ She hastily tried to compose her features to show nothing more than the pleasure he had intended his words to give her as she replied, “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.”

Anomen’s eyes searched her face and he said, “I know.  But it isn’t what you think, Tristan. Sir Ryan merely consented to my continuing in your company, _because_ of all the good things you’ve done. I’ll not tell you that the Order isn’t wary, but they’ve not asked for anything more. And please know that I would sooner leave you than betray your trust.”

“Then I am _very_ glad to see you.

“Are you? Then come downstairs and have dinner with me. And in return you can tell me what happened today. I ran into Keldorn on the way here and he said that you’d succeeded in rescuing Nalia but mentioned some rather odd things had happened; something about Jen? And a portal?”

“I’d be happy to go,” she replied and then looked up at him mischievously, “but are you sure you’re not afraid of being seen with me? It’s one thing to travel with my company but another to be seen alone with _me_. Whatever would your Order say?”

“There is nothing they can say now that I’ve achieved my goal. Knights you know, have much more freedom than mere squires. But even if I thought the Order could or would censure me, it would not matter. I would still wish to be with you.”

Pleased with his declaration, she smiled sweetly up at him before shooing him out of the room so she could change.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

A couple of hours later Tristan sat beside the fire, watching it crackle brightly in the nearby hearth and turning from time to time to pick at the remains of the rather excellent meal left on her plate. She had spent much of the time talking animatedly with Anomen, telling him of the day’s adventures while he in turn had told her of his day at the Radiant Heart. Now however, they had both fallen silent as if having talked of everyone else, there was nothing left to say.

Tristan glanced over at him and then turned to pick up her wineglass. As she did so, he caught her hand, his fingers massaging her palm. “I am sorry I was not able to be with you today. It sounds as though you could have used my company.”

“I almost sent for you,” she admitted, “And I would have if Jaheira had not been able to revive Jen. And I don’t know _what_ Haer’Dalis would have done if she had died although I suspect it would have been against his convictions raise her.”

Anomen’s eyebrows rose, “I doubt faith would have much to do with his objections for he has none, demonspawn that he is.”

“Careful,” she warned him, pulling her hand away and trying not to look hurt, “Haer’Dalis’s heritage is not all that far from my own, yet you don’t seem to see me as a fiend.” She looked at him, her eyes suddenly bright with unshed anxious tears and swallowed hard, keeping her voice level as she added, “Or do you?”

Anomen flushed, his expression changing to one of surprise as if the ground had suddenly shaken beneath him.  He shook his head quickly, “No, my Lady, far from it.” He paused for a moment, considering her and then continued softly,

  _Bright be the place of thy soul!_

 _No lovelier spirit than thine_

 _E’er burst from its mortal control,_

 _In the orbs of the blessed to shine._ __

_On earth thou wert all but divine,_

 _As thy soul shall immortally be;_

 _And our sorrow may cease to repine,_ __

_When we know that thy God is with thee._ _**[1]** _

 She looked at him in surprise, smiling somewhat tentatively. He flushed slightly but smiled back saying, “Our wayward bard is not the only one who reads poetry, you know. My sister was quite addicted to the stuff and often read her favorites to me little though I appreciated them at the time. However, some things I committed to memory for which I am glad as this one suits you well.” He possessed himself of both Tristan’s hands, staring earnestly into her eyes in a way that made her tremble and drop her own.

 “My Lady,” he said and paused for a moment, gathering his courage before continuing, “Tristan. I don’t know how to begin except to say that I know this has been a difficult time for both of us.  I’ve been at my father and afraid of how the Order might judge me. And I know I that at times I’ve struck out at you when I could not strike at them. And yet you’ve always forgiven me.”

 “Why wouldn’t I forgive you?” she asked quietly, putting her hand on his arm. Her heart began pounding rather erratically although it was not an altogether unpleasant feeling.

 He looked down at the table and then back to her, shaking his head, “All my life, I have felt unworthy. And lately, I have begun to wonder how you would feel about having one such as myself at your side, particularly if I failed the Order’s test. Yet even if I had, I would still be compelled to say to you the things I have come to say tonight. For the longer we’ve journeyed together, the more my feelings for you have grown. I find that I love you Tristan and although I know not what the future will bring, I know that I want to be beside you if you’ll have me.”

 “Yuoo teller, buddy.” They both started at the interruption, looking up to see a drunk leering at them from a nearby table.   Anomen glared at the man for a moment and then turned back to Tristan.

“Come upstairs away from such prying eyes and ears for there is much more I would say if you choose to listen.”

She nodded and rose. Anomen followed her and they headed upstairs, stopping just outside the door of Tristan’s room. Taking the key from her, he opened it, motioning for her to enter the darkened room and went over to the bedside table to light a candle before returning to shut the door. He then came back to take her hands once more, pressing them to his lips. “Tristan…”

She felt her face grow hot and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was blushing furiously. _I have no aptitude for romance and never had. Imoen was always the flirt, teasing the boys and doing all sorts of things with them. It never seemed to matter before but right now, I wish I’d paid more attention._

She looked up shyly and found Anomen looking down at her from his rather considerable height. As their eyes met, he too blushed slightly, clearing his throat.  “I-I want to be _with_ you, Tristan, if you’ll have me.”

“Yes Ano, I will,” she replied simply. Gods _! What do I do now? I’ve never done this before._ The thought struck her as absurd and she began to laugh. Anomen looked at her, admiration and love fading from his face, replaced by an angry frown.

Tristan put her hands on his broad shoulders and looked up at him, a somewhat shy smile trembling on her lips. “Please don’t be angry. I don’t know if I can begin to tell you how happy your words have made me. And I’m not laughing at you at all. I’m laughing at myself. I’ve always known I had to take care of myself and I’ve concentrated on that; training, learning and doing all the things I needed to do to survive. But I’ve never trained for _this_ and for the first time in my life, I…don’t know what to do.”

He smiled slowly, palpable happiness radiating out from him to envelop her. “Then my Lady, we’ll learn together,” he replied and swept her into his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Bright Be the Place of Thy Soul, George Gordon Noel Byron, Lord Byron (1788-1824)


	37. Morning

Sunlight streamed in through the open curtains room waking Haer’Dalis from a sound sleep. He opened one eye in acknowledgement of the sun’s presence and then closed it again as he slid over to curl around Jen who was lying with her back towards him, taking pleasure in the feel of her warm skin against his own .  She turned towards him, stretching catlike in his arms before nestling closer. His arms tightened around her and he began to stroke her back. 

“I don’t want to get up,” she murmured, burying her head in his shoulder. 

He opened he eyes to see her looking up at him. “Nor do I, my love, he replied. They lay quietly in each other’s arms, enjoying the comfortable contact until the aroma of warm bread and sausage, wafting up from the kitchen below served to remind them that it had been some time since they had eaten. 

Haer’Dalis sighed exaggeratedly as his stomach began to growl prompted by the delicious smells coming from below.  “I would give much to remain here my Kestrel, but I fear that if I do not find sustenance soon, I won’t be able to go on – or at least have much strength for the day’s activities.” 

Jen glanced up at him, her expression amused. “ _Very_ dramatic.  Still, I wouldn’t want you to waste away.  We’ve probably been lucky to be able to stay in bed for so long without interruption. To be honest, I’m a little surprised that Tristan hasn’t shown up to give us the day’s news or something.” 

Smirking he replied, “Perhaps our new-hatched knight is contributing to her delay. Assuming of course that his precious Order has allowed him to escape their ever-watchful eye.” 

“Maybe.” Her face became thoughtful. “Actually I hope for both their sakes that you’re right.” She rose and began collecting her clothing. Haer’Dalis propped himself up, hands behind his head, watching until she retired behind the screen to wash and dress before laying back to stare abstractedly at the ceiling.  His faraway look disappeared abruptly as she emerged and snatched up a pillow, smacking him soundly with it.  “Get up you slug! You told me to move because _you_ were dying of hunger, now here I am ready to go and you haven’t even budged!”

 He laughed and swung himself out of bed, reaching for his pants. “As you wish.” She rolled her eyes and he came up behind her, wrapping his arms about her waist. But as he bent to kiss the top of her head, his stomach betrayed him again, rumbling loudly with hunger. She giggled, tilting her head back to look up at him and he grinned ruefully back at her.  
“Look, why don’t I go down and ask for breakfast to be sent up before you die of starvation.  You can make yourself presentable while I’m gone,” she said and left the room.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jen leaned back her in chair with a contented sigh, a large cup in her hand. She glanced over to see Haer’Dalis smiling in amusement at her obvious satisfaction. “I’m so glad you located coffee for me. I know you don’t understand the attraction, but believe me two things I’ve missed about home are this,” she waved the cup at him, and chocolate. There are some things that just _can’t_ be replaced.” 

He smiled and shook his head, refusing to take the bait. “All too true, my Kestrel. Memory for example.”

“Yeah.” She frowned, her expression turning sober.   “Whether acquired _or_ lost.”

He reached over and squeezed her hand, “Jen…,” he began and stopped as she looked away.

She stared unseeingly out the window as she took a long swallow of coffee.  When she finally looked at him again, her expression was neutral and her tone almost casual. “It’s ok. Really.”  
“No ‘tis not or you wouldn’t have said anything.”

“Well, ok, not entirely,” she admitted, “but it will be.” 

He looked at her concernedly but said nothing.  After moment she gave him a rather lopsided smile.  “Actually, I guess we _should_ talk about what happened last night. Get this over with.  Not about what happened _later_ …I mean talk about what happened when you first came into the room. “

“If you feel you’re ready.”

She nodded. “Yes I need to get this over with.”  She tossed back the last of the coffee, putting the cup back on the table before turning to look at him. “It’s just…I felt so _stupid_ ; so ashamed of getting myself into such a mess.  I _knew_ Lord Roenal was in his study.  I just wasn’t thinking when I went over and started throwing stuff.  I endangered myself and almost screwed up our whole plan. And then Lord Roenal….”  A wave of color crept up her cheeks staining them a dull red and she looked down at the table.  “He kissed me and felt me up. He cut me a few times and he threatened me.  I _knew_ he wanted to scare me – and to hurt _you_. And I _was_ scared. But the worst part was that I felt like I somehow deserved it by giving him the opportunity to trap me in the first place.”  She rolled her eyes, shaking her head ruefully. “At home I’m quite good at taking care of myself. But here I’m like a kid who needs constant supervision.  I don’t much like it.  So last night when I remembered _him…_ I felt _…_ really ashamed and angry with myself.  Just wanted to crawl away and die for a moment. And it did help to have a little time. Even just a few hours of sleep to put some distance between….”

He raised her hands to his lips, kissing them reassuringly but his voice was harsh as he ground out, “I should _never_ have let him go. Regardless of what Tristan said, I _should_ have killed him. And if I ever run across him again, ‘twill be his bad luck for I _will_ kill him.” His voice softened and he squeezed her hands, echoing Lila’s words of the night before.  “You did nothing wrong, Jen.  _Nothing_.  And his behavior bears no excuse; least of all that you ‘deserved’ it.”  His eyes bored into hers.  “Many would not have been able to keep their wits about them under such circumstances.  You _did_ and you survived.  And kept Malichus from injury as well as Lord Roenall from gaining the documents. So, waste no more thought on self-blame Jen. You did the best you could; as we all did.”

“Thank you, Haery.”  She sighed, giving him a somewhat lopsided smile. “I just have to keep reminding myself to let it go.”   She leaned over to hug him and then poured herself a fresh cup of coffee. They ate silently for a few minutes, looking out at the garden.  Finally Jen said, “You started to say something about your own memory a few minutes ago. Now that you know what happened wasn’t déjà vu, do you think that reversing time changed your memory of it as well?”

He took the change of subject in stride, looking thoughtful.  He ran a hand through his hair, the beads woven into it clinking together softly. “Perhaps it did. I would give much to be able to remember it all. No matter what one calls it, I find knowing only bits and pieces to be exasperating at the least. It just feels as though there is something that needs to be finished.”

Nodding, she placed her cup back on the table. “It _is_ frustrating not to remember things.  Maybe you’re trying too hard; perhaps you should just go with it – not worry about it.  Maybe that will allow the memories to come back more easily.” 

He tilted the chair back, one arm behind his head. “I can’t help but believe that the clues are in front of me.” He cleared his throat, shaking his head in exasperation and leaned forward, the front legs of his chair hitting the floor with a thud. “However, you’re very likely right and may all come back at some point. But in the meantime we have other things to occupy us for unless you intend to remain with Nanny Bea – and I very much hope that is _not_ your intent – you’ll be traveling with me and that means you’ll need to be better prepared for what we might meet on the road.”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure I know what makes the most sense. When I first came here all I wanted to do was go home. I love Nanny but I don’t really want to spend the rest of my life there.  I wouldn’t mind traveling, but what about Tristan? You’re traveling with _her_ and she’s been very clear that she doesn’t want me; that I don’t have the right skills.  So…I just don’t know.”  

He squeezed her hand reassuringly, “Tristan may have a different perspective now that she’s worked with you. But, perhaps you _should_ go home, albeit briefly, just to say farewell.”

She nodded. “Particularly after seeing Ronnie…the spirit…whatever it was, I do want to see my parents. And Beth and Franny.”  Her expression shifted and become more sober. “But it will be hard to leave them a second time. How do you leave your friends and family, especially if it might be forever? It’s one thing when it just happens but to _do_ it knowing that it’s unlikely you’ll never see them again….” She sighed. “But at the same time, I _can’t_ go off without letting them know I’m ok.”  

“‘Twill serve to close a chapter for you if nothing more although truly it need not be forever and you need not go alone. I’ll go with you. I’m curious about your world and afterwards, who knows? If you’re willing, we’ll travel the planes…or return to the primes. And I swear to you that should you change your mind about being with me I will do my utmost to see that you return to your own world once again.”  She nodded again, her look thoughtful as he continued, “But first we must visit Cambrel and get the location of the portal. And more importantly, you need to be outfitted for the journey.”

“Journey?” Jen echoed the word. “I understand being on the road, but what need to have before stepping through a portal?  It’s not that hard. Or at least it doesn’t seem so. I mean last time I just sort of fell into it.”

“Surely my love, you don’t think portals are located on every street corner? Perhaps ‘tis true on Sigil but certainly not on a prime like Faerun. For if that were the case beings would pop in and out of worlds like fleas on a dog. He grinned broadly, clearly amused. “Although I admit the resulting pandemonium would be **_most_** entertaining.”

Her mouth twitched and then she started to giggle, “Honestly Haery, is chaos **_all_** you ever think about?”

“’Twas once my sole reason for living, although recently I have found myself focused upon a lovelier and certainly more pleasant life purpose.” He raised an eyebrow, leering at her for a moment and then his expression became serious once again, “Assuming Cambrel has found a portal, we’ll most likely need to travel to reach it and you can’t wander about in most places without _some_ protection, my love. Even Athkatla is not always safe as you’ve had reason to learn.  You’ll need some kind of armor and time to get used to wearing it.”

She sighed. “You right. And I guess I _have_ been thinking of portals as being somewhat similar to heading over to the nearest subway station.” She grinned at the puzzled expression on his face, “Never mind. You’ll understand one of these days.” Then she too turned sober, “But I have no way to buy anything. Nanny has been kind, but I certainly don’t have enough money to buy armor.”

“But you do. Surely you don’t think you participated in our last adventure without earning a share of the company’s funds? And even if you had not, I have the means to pay.”

She made a face. “Alright, but I don’t know if I really need it. And I wonder whether I’ll really be safer or if it will keep me from protecting myself in the only way I know how.”

He grinned at her. “And that would be?”

She stuck her tongue out at him.  “Why running away, of course!  Haven’t you heard the saying, ‘He who learns to run away, lives to fight another day?”

He shook his head, “Not a terribly effective defense overall.  But I _have_ seen you defend yourself; you don’t lack courage.  I would suggest you learn to use a bow and possibly a dagger. Nalia has skills with the former and I with the latter. While you may not become expert with either, ‘tis possible that you can learn enough to protect yourself.”

“Alright,” she said nodding reluctantly.

“So we’ll go to the Promenade and perhaps visit Tristan after.”  He pushed back his chair and rose from the table.  She expected him to head downstairs but instead he headed towards his room and went inside. Jen followed, watching as he went to a large trunk and opened it.  He pulled out a multitude of items, his fingers quickly locating the hidden latch to its false bottom, opening it to reveal the cache of coins and papers.

“What’s all this?” she asked.

“My winnings among other things.”

“And the papers?” She picked up a pile and began looking at them.  They were covered with strange symbols and words that she didn’t recognize.

“Spells….” His voice trailed off as he stared thoughtfully at the stack of papers in her hand. Spells.   _I liberated a rather unusual spell from Cambrel, did I not?  Where is it?_ He began to look through the scraps of paper, turning them over to scrutinize them carefully but it was nowhere to be found. He sat back on his heels, continuing to stare at jumbled scraps before him. “It’s not here.”

“What’s not here, Haery? What’s missing?”

“A spell,” he said slowly, “I had a spell that affects time. But I couldn’t cast it. I’m not powerful enough.” He looked at her, excitement growing in his face, “But I might have taken it to someone who could.” He thought for a moment, “Raelis told me of a mage who lives in the Promenade. She described him as being more powerful than most. If I did take it to someone I might have taken it to him.”

“The Promenade? Isn’t that where this mysterious mage of Tristan’s was located? The one who was arrested along with her sister? Surely your friend Raelis didn’t visit - what was his name…Irenicus?”

“No. This one is a planetraveler. Raelis wouldn’t have trusted anyone else,” he replied.  He sat back on his heels, thoughtfully rubbing his chin.

She leaned forward to take his hands in her own. “Then I think we should go and find him.”

He squeezed her hands in return and then pulled her towards him, “In a little while.”

She went to him willingly enough but after a few moments drew back with a smile, “If we don’t go now, we’ll never go.”

Nodding, he rose reluctantly and quickly put on his armor. Once finished, he put out a hand to help her to her feet and together they went out the door.


	38. Waukeen's Promenade

A short time later they entered the quadrangle that was Waukeen’s Promenade.  Jen had never been there for Nanny had often said she needed nothing that was not to be found near her own home.  She went through the gate’s broad arch and then stopped to better take in the sights, looking with interest at the area’s unusual architecture, the displays of animals and odd machinery and the circus tent.  _There’s a little bit of everything here.  Feels more exotic than most of Athkatla. If I were home I’d think I’d just stepped off a plane somewhere in the Mediterranean._

“Jen! Are you coming?”  Haer’Dalis’s voice interrupted her thoughts.  He was standing near a set of stairs opposite the tall arch through which they’d entered and was waiting for her.  She hurried over, giving him a somewhat sheepish smile. “I haven’t been here before. It’s very different than the rest of Athkatla.”

He grinned at her. “No reason to come unless you’re looking for weapons and armor.” 

They reached their destination; a door on the third tier that opened into a shop.  The room inside was filled with weapons.  After carefully examining a number of bows under shopkeeper’s watchful eye, Haer’Dalis finally handed one to Jen. “Perhaps you can use this.”                                                

She shrugged and took the bow, holding it in her left hand with the arrow rest up and the bowstring across the inside of her arm as she drew back the bowstring, pretending to line up a target.“Draw length and weight seem right.”  She glanced towards Haer’Dalis and saw that he was staring at her, a look of astonishment writ across his face.

“What?”

“I thought you’d never used a bow,” he said, his eyebrows arcing in surprise.

“I did target shooting at summer camp.”  

 “And you didn’t think to mention it?”  

Her eyebrows drew together in a quick frown. “It _wasn’t_ like I was _trying_ to hide it.  I just didn’t think there was much point in mentioning it since I haven’t used a bow in years. Besides, shooting at targets isn’t all the same as shooting at something moving.”  She made a moue of distaste.  “To be honest, I’m not sure how I feel about that.  Shooting to hurt someone I mean.”

He nodded but didn’t reply, instead turning to the shopkeeper to purchase the bow and a quiver of arrows.  They left the shop, making their way slowly down the wide walkway.  In the distance ahead of them Jen saw a large pile of rubble and pointed towards it. “What happened there?” 

“An explosion of some kind. ‘Tis rumored that an unlicensed mage caused it – the one who caused her sister to be arrested,” he replied.

Her eyes widened, “Wow! He must pretty powerful to cause this much damage.  Do you think Nalia could do that?”

"No. She’s neither sufficiently powerful nor practiced, although that may change over time.”  They continued to make their way along the tier. There were few merchants at this level and Jen was just about to suggest they head back down when Haer’Dalis halted, an odd look on his face. 

“What is it?” Jen asked him. “Another memory?”

He nodded slowly, “Yes.”  He moved forward a few more steps, stopping in front of a small black door.  “I’ve been here before.” 

“You have?”

He nodded, his brow wrinkling in confusion.  “Yes,” he said slowly, “For some reason I _do_ believe I’ve been here before.”  He knocked and as if in response the door swung open allowing them to see inside.  There appeared to be no one home but Haer’Dalis entered the room anyway, Jen following closely at his heels.

The room appeared to be devoid of life except for a small fire burning brightly in the hearth. Jen, feeling extremely uncomfortable at entering what was obviously a private residence without invitation, peered about nervously, “Are you sure we should be here?  I mean, it feels like we’re invading someone’s home when they’re away.”

He scratched his head, his expression somewhat bemused. “This is the home of Raelis’s mage friend.  I’m sure of it although I don’t know why. Yet for some reason the room seems…familiar.”

She looked at him for a moment, “And?”

He nodded, “‘Tis just a hunch. I have nothing of substance to base it upon.”  He walked towards the fire and turned to stand in front of the large and comfortable-looking armchair sitting in front of it.  Jen stared curiously as she came up to stand beside him but said nothing.  He looked at the chair quietly for several moments finally saying in a firm, quiet voice, “Show yourself. I know you’re here.”

The flames rose higher and as Jen watched in amazement a figure began to materialize in the chair.  As the form solidified, she realized it was a man.  He looked at her curiously for a moment and then turned to Haer’Dalis.

“So you’ve come back. I wondered if you’d remember enough to find me again.”

Haer’Dalis shifted uncomfortably.  “This place is familiar as are you although I don’t ‘remember’ either. But you say you ‘wondered if I’d find you again’ so perhaps you know something of my missing memory? Or maybe have even had a hand in its desertion?”

The figure in the chair bowed slightly. “Indeed, although you may not remember me, I know you well Haer’Dalis.”

“How do you know me?” 

“I shared your mind for a time. You don’t remember?  Ah well, I told you there would be a price to pay for using the scroll, particularly since it belonged not to you but to the Lady.”

A strange feeling of relief shot through Haer’Dalis at the man’s words.  This must be Raelis’s mage friend, and although he didn’t remember the meeting he felt sure that the mystery was about to be solved.  “The Lady…?  There are many Ladies.  Of whom do you speak?”

The shadowy figure seemed to smile. “Why one you know quite well.  I speak of the Lady of Pain, of course.  Fortunately she was entertained by your audacity in attempting the impossible in order to remain aligned within your life’s chosen philosophy.  She seemed highly amused in fact and the reason that you, or rather _we_ succeeded was largely due to her sufferance. You achieved your purpose did you not?”

Jen looked from one to the other. “Achieved your purpose,” she said slowly. “Haery, what is he talking about?”

“Would that I knew.”  Haer’Dalis said, his tone thoughtful.  Finally he shook his head. “I remember the spell. Did I bring it to you to cast it?”

The man smiled, “I - or more precisely _we_ \- cast the spell. As to your memory, did you really expect to change time with no effect o yourself?” He looked at Haer’Dalis, a sympathetic smile hovering about his shadowy mouth.  “Does it really matter all that much?  Do you believe your lack of memory prevented you from making a choice or did it perhaps _allow_ you to make one?”

Haer’Dalis’s eyebrows rose slightly as he took in Arshaka’s words.  “So are you suggesting that had I remembered what had gone on before the spell was cast I might not have chosen as I did?  For ‘tis true that the ultimate goal of everything in the Multiverse is to decay and die and I prevented that from happening to Jen.”  He frowned.  “Or did I? For when I went after her, she hadn’t yet died. ”

Smiling, the mage said, “You’re not exempt from the laws of the Multiverse you know. Your memory is gone for better or for worse.  But again, think of it this way. If your memory _had_ remained intact your philosophy’s dictates might have been as an obstacle for they would not have allowed you to listen to your heart.  You achieved your purpose. Let it be enough.”

Haer ‘Dalis did not answer but turned thoughtfully into the fire which crackled suddenly, stirring him into movement.  Turning back to Arshaka he replied, “You may be right.  I will think on it further.”  Then, prompted by a feeling he couldn’t quite name, he rose and bowed to the old man in the chair.  Arshaka smiled, returning his gaze steadily before disappearing along with the fire.

Haer’Dalis turned, offering his hand to Jen to help her up and found her staring at him.  “So when you came after me, you were doing something that was against your reason, your will and even in fact, against your beliefs? Something you didn’t want to do?”

He kept her hands in his as he thought for a moment. Finally he looked down at her saying, “’Tis true that all things end. Yet something changed. And I’m glad it did. In all truth, my solution does not go against the Doomguard philosophy in the end as it postpones rather than prevents the inevitable, for none of us is immortal.”

She returned his gaze, her eyes bright.  “So you don’t regret bringing me back?” 

“I believe I would regret it more had I _not_ done so,” he replied.  She smiled, stretching up to give him a quick kiss, then turned and followed him out of the darkened room. 


	39. Aerie

They exited the small dark apartment into bright sunlight and slowly made their way back down to the main level of Waukeen’s Promenade eventually coming to a broad red door fronted by a tall, burly man. 

“Come to the Adventure Mart!” he bawled out at their approach. “The greatest selection of armor and weaponry on this side of Faerun!  Leather! Plate! Robes!”

 They entered the shop only to find themselves confronted by a heavily armed guard.  He glanced briefly at Jen but his gaze lingered upon Haer’Dalis.  “Don’t try to cause any trouble, tiefling.  I’m watching you,” he warned.  Haer’Dalis glanced at the guard, his lips twisting in sardonic acknowledgement before he pushed past, heading towards a man standing behind a tall wooden bench.

“Ribold?”

“Yes,” the man said as he came towards them. “Can I help you find something?”

“Indeed,” replied Haer’Dalis. “The lady needs armor.”  He looked around thoughtfully, his eyes sweeping the walls and racks before him.  “Leather.  Studded, perhaps.”

The man was suddenly all business.  He looked Jen over carefully and then went to a nearby rack to pull out a heavy–looking piece.  “This will serve.”  She took the leather shell from him, nearly dropping it in surprise as she felt its weight.  Haer’Dalis came over and took the armor from her, helping to buckle her into it.

Once he was finished, he stepped back to check the fit.  “Walk around a bit, Jen.”  She nodded and flexed her shoulders, finding that the armor felt stiffer and heavier than she had imagined it would be.  It hung from her shoulders like a long and exceptionally heavy jacket and after takinga few steps in which she found herself moving somewhat awkwardly she realized that there was no way to effectively distribute the garment’s weight.  She continued to stroll about the room, finally stopping in front of Haer’Dalis. “I suppose I _could_ get used to it, but it’s much heavier than I imagined it would be.  And I’m wondering what it will be like to carry a pack as well.  At home, I’m used to carrying a 40 pound pack – that’s the weight of the pack, ultra-lite gear and 5-6 days-worth of food. The gear I’ve seen here looks _much_ heavier.  If I’m going to wear armor and carry a Faerun-standard pack, then I suspect that the next few weeks are going to be painful – at least until I get used to carrying all that weight.”  Grinning a bit sheepishly she looked down, “And I have to admit that I’m hoping that I don’t look as incredibly silly as I feel.”  

“Has the lady worn armor before?”  Ribald asked. 

“No,” she replied shortly. “And I’m not sure that it’s such a good idea now.”  She turned to Haer’Dalis, “This is going to take some time to get used to. Honestly, I don’t even think I’d be able to run away much less fight.” 

He nodded.  “Perhaps plain leather would be better,” he said to Ribald.  

The shopkeeper shook his head, “It’s not much lighter and would still take time to get used to.  But perhaps there is another solution.”  He paused and then asked delicately, “I’m not trying to pry, but perhaps if I knew the purpose for such an array?” 

Haer’Dalis shrugged, “We will be traveling soon to places where safety is uncertain.  I would have something stand between Jen and the possibility of a knife blade.” 

“I see.”  Ribald went to a nearby rack and began rummaging through it, finally pulling out a beautifully embroidered vest. It looked to be of considerably lighter weight.  

“This is a rather special item for although it looks like everyday attire, it has protective plating under the lining.  It was made for a nobleman who placed a high value on his own safety. Given that he did some very foolish things, he had reason to be concern.  Still, it saved his life more than once.  It’s not heavy but it’s certainly enough to stop a knife.” 

“Why did the owner get rid of it? Jen asked looking suspiciously at the garment being held out to her.  She sincerely hoped that Ribald hadn’t acquired it as a result of its owner’s demise.

“He no longer had need of it.”  Ribald smiled, “Oh don’t worry, my dear. The previous owner is still alive – in fact he lives nearby.  He simply ran into circumstances where its monetary value was more important than its protection.” 

He proffered the vest once again and she took it gingerly, looking it over.  The leather was reasonably think but soft and the garment was lined with a fabric that had once been a deep red but had faded in patches so that it was now a mixture of red and rose pink. There were no rents or obvious patches and had clearly been recently cleaned.  It seemed sturdy enough and was definitely lighter than the armor she was currently wearing. 

“I assume from the bow you’re carrying that any fighting you do will be from a distance and in those circumstances this along with a cloak of protection will serve you as well armor,” Ribald said, “for you’ll be better able to move out of harm’s way.”  He came forward, “May I?” 

Jen nodded and he unbuckled the leather armor.  Once finished, he gestured for her to put on the vest and then went back to the racks to look through and finally select a cloak which he threw about her shoulders. As it settled, it seemed to vibrate slightly and she sensed the air around her hardening as if encasing her in a protective shell.  The vest was a bit large but she didn’t think that would be a problem.  She bent over and then stood, moving easily.  Turning to Haer’Dalis she exclaimed, “This is _so_ much better!” 

Haer’Dalis nodded, “Yes, perhaps you’re right my Kestrel.”  He stepped away, gesturing for Ribald to follow, saying quietly, “The cost?” 

Ribald gave him a jovial grin, “A mere 500 gold for the vest and because I wish to help the lady, I’ll give you the cloak at a bargain price – 5000 gold pieces.”  Haer”Dalis’s eyebrows rose slightly and his lips twitched, the corners turning down.  Ribald had been watching intently to see his reaction and now continued hastily, “Surely your peace of mind and the lady’s safety is worth the price. But perhaps a demonstration of its effectiveness is in order?” 

Haer’Dalis nodded, “Agreed but not with Jen.”  He came back to where she standing and they exchanged a few words, then she took off the vest and cloak, holding them while he quickly removed his own armor. She handed the items to him and he put them on before turning to face the nearby guard who obligingly drew his sword.  Haer’Dalis did not draw his weapons but remained standing unarmed although at the ready.  The guard circled him for a moment and then thrust his blade forward.  As it touched the cloak it seemed to encounter some resistance for although it stopped, resting against Haer’Dalis’s shoulder it did not penetrate the cloth.  Haer’Dalis stepped back, “Again.” 

This time he drew his blades, moving into a defensive position.  The guard grinned eagerly and came forward.  They fought for a few moments but the guard’s blade never reached Haer’Dalis although it wasn’t clear to Jen whether this was due to the protection of the vest and cloak or the tiefling’s obvious skill at arms.  Finally he stepped back, dropping his blades.  “Enough.”  He saluted the guard and looked at Ribald.  “’Tis well enough, but the cloak’s magic is weak.  The vest is sufficient although certainly not as valuable as armor.  I’ll give you 2000 gold pieces for both.” 

Ribald snorted and shook his head, “No, the vest is well worth the cost and the cloak is as new.  You offer too little, sir.”  Haer’Dalis crossed his arms over his chest and they began dickering in earnest.  Jen listened with half an ear, eventually moving over to examine a nearby rack of swords.  An intricately carved hilt caught her eye and she stretched a cautious finger towards it. 

“Hey! Are you looking for a sword?  I love a good fight!  Not like these other pieces of rusty metal here!”  She jumped back, looking around but no one was nearby.  She looked around and then realized that the voice seemed to have come from the sword in front of her. “Hey!” the voice called again.  Ribald glanced towards her, “Lilacor is a fine sword for those who know how to use her.” He turned back to Haer’Dalis, “Perhaps a bard such as yourself would be interested in such a conversational blade.” 

Haer’Dalis laughed and shook his head, “No. I suspect we would not suit.”  

A look of regret crossed Ribald’s face but he conceded the point and returned to the business at hand. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Their purchases complete, they left the Adventure Mart and were heading towards the nearest exit when Jen caught sight of a wooden airplane.  The sight of it surprised her and she headed towards it for a better look, Haer’Dalis following a short distance behind.  As they approached, a gnome came out from where he had been working under the belly of the plane and she began questioning him as to its ability to become airborne. 

After several minutes of conversation she turned to Haer’Dalis, “I never thought I’d see anything like this here!  At home, planes are made of metal rather than wood and carry _dozens_ of passengers.  I used to travel by air all the time.  When we return to my world, I’d like to take a trip – show you some of _our_ magic.” 

He nodded, enjoying her enthusiasm.  He had no real love of machines but the concept intrigued him nonetheless. At first he listened with interest but as time went on and the conversation continued with Jen using curious phrases such as “aerodynamic capabilities,” he grew bored and eventually began looking around for a comfortable spot where he could wait.  He noted a couple of large crates nearby, shaded by the Promenade’s wall and went over to lean against them.  Lulled by the sun’s warmth as much as by a lack of interest in the discussion, he found himself drifting off into a pleasant daydream only to be pulled back by a familiar voice. 

“Why Haer’Dalis!  I’d heard that Tristan was back in town.  I’d hoped to see you and now here you are!” 

He looked up, immediately recognizing the pretty young elf standing in front of him. _Aerie._  He knew her well enough for they’d been lovers.  He’d met her shortly after the Sigil Troupe’s arrival in Athkatla.  Initially the connection had been as fellow performers – he on the stage, she in the circus although she’d soon confessed her desire to act. Although he truly believed she had talent, he’d primarily viewed it as a means to an end and inevitably, they had ended up in bed although, like many of his liaisons, their affaire had ended quickly and unfortunately, rather badly.

Somewhat surprised at being taken unawares, he found himself in the unusual position of frantically trying to gather his wits. Finally he said, “’Tis hardly surprising that we should meet my Dove.  All who come to Athkatla eventually come to Waukeen’s Promenade.”

The young woman pouted and tossed her head in she obviously thought was a seductive manner. “When I saw you, I rather hoped you’d come to see _me._ I’m back with my Uncle Quayle you know, at the circus.” She pointed to a large striped tent standing some distance away. 

“I’ve had other things occupying my mind.  And I would not have thought you’d much welcome my presence given our parting,” he said rather stiffly.

“Silly!” she said with a light laugh.  “I know I was pretty upset at the time, but of course I’m happy to see you…especially now.”

“I fail to see what makes this moment any different than another. But I’m pleased to know that you have made your way back to your Uncle Quayle. You were happy with him.  Certainly happier than you were with me.”

She looked at him slyly, “Oh but I’m _quite_ pleased to see you now.  Perhaps you can guess why.  Look at me carefully, Haer’Dalis.  Perhaps the reason is more apparent than you think.”  She turned sideways, holding her robes loosely beneath a slightly rounded belly.

He sucked his breath in sharply and then released it. “I see what you’re trying to suggest but even if it were true, I fail to understand what it has to do with me.  We parted quite some time ago, my Dove.”

“Yes, we did, but not _so_ long ago.” 

He eyed her shrewdly and shook his head.  “It’s been long enough and this change seems rather new.  And assuming your tale _is_ true I wonder you’ve not sought me out before; why you waited for a chance meeting to approach me with such news.”   

Aerie’s eyes filled with tears, “Oh Haer’Dalis, how can you _say_ such a thing? After _all_ we were to each other.  When I saw you…well, I just _so_ hoped you’d be pleased…that perhaps this would heal the rift between us,” she cried.  Tears filled her eyes, a single drop spilling over, sparkling on her long eyelashes as she looked at him pleadingly, her hand fluttering just over her heart.

His lips twisted slightly. “Very touching, Aerie. I clearly taught you well.  As to the ‘rift’ between us, perhaps you forget that you left _me_ , not the other way around.”

 Aerie smiled, her eyes soft and pleading, “I was wrong to leave you. I see that now.”

“All things come to an end, Aerie,” he began only to be interrupted by a light touch on his arm.  He startled, his heart sinking with the realization that Jen had come up behind him.  He glanced back at her, Aerie’s gaze following his own.

“Hello,” she said brightly to Jen. “You must be Haer’Dalis’s latest.”

Jen raised her eyebrows. Sliding under Haer’Dalis’s arm, she faced the young woman, taking her meaning quite easily. “Latest and greatest!” she said flippantly. “And you are?”

“My name is Aerie.”

“Hello Aerie.”  Jen glanced at Haer’Dalis. “So how do you two know each other?”

“Aerie used to travel with Tristan’s company.”

“Oh I’d say it was a bit more than that.  Haer’Dalis and I were once…” Aerie paused as if searching for just the right word, the tip of her tongue, stretching out to touch her upper lip.  Finally she smiled sweetly and continued, “…in love.” Her hand slid down, cupping her stomach, her eyes on Jen’s face. “But perhaps you knew that already?”

“No, but then again I had no need to.”  Jen’s eyes slid down, her eyes lingering for a moment on the small swelling under Aerie’s hand. Her lips tightened briefly and then smoothed into a smile as she turned to Haer’Dalis. “Sorry to have taken so long, are you ready to head back to see Tristan?”

Aerie gave them a satisfied smile, her tears miraculously gone, “It was nice to meet you…and to see _you_ of course, Haer’Dalis.  We’ll have to talk again… _soon_.”  She patted Jen’s arm. “Be careful. For all his protestations of love, he isn’t truly capable of it you know. But he _is_ a fine actor.”   

She turned to leave but was stopped by the sudden appearance of a man hurrying towards them from the direction of the circus tent.  “Aerie!” he called.  “Wait! I’ve been looking all over for you!”   He reached the group, putting an arm around Aerie’s shoulders as he glanced at Haer’Dalis and Jen. “Sorry to interrupt the conversation.  Your Uncle Quayle is looking for you my dear.” 

The newcomer was a somewhat exotic looking man with dark hair, bound back from his face revealing a pair of somewhat pointed ears.  Although his body was sturdily built, his movements were graceful.  He maintained an arm around Aerie’s shoulders and his expression was tender as he looked down at her.  Aerie however looked rather less than pleased at the interruption.  Haer’Dalis, observing her expression, stepped forward, “Is this your new partner, my Dove?”  He turned to the man, “Allow me to introduce myself.  My name is Haer’Dalis. And this is Jen. “ 

The man nodded pleasantly at them, “And I am Airahil. A pleasure to meet you both. You obviously know my wife.  Were you perhaps at one time part of Quayle’s circus?”

“Your wife!”  Haer’Dalis’s eyes brightened and his smile widened. “Aerie and I were comrades in arms in the not so distant past.  But she decided to return to the circus – much to her good fortune I see. We were just discussing old times. But don’t let me keep you.” 

Airahil nodded and turned to leave but continued to look at them, her expression turning spiteful as she turned to Haer’Dalis, “I find it so _interesting_ that you’ve chosen to take up with a short-lived human; you know, here today and gone tomorrow. Although I suppose that makes things easier for you given your…proclivities.”   With that she turned and flounced away, following her husband.

They watched her go for a moment and then made their way towards the broad arch that would take them back into Athkatla proper.  After a few moments Jen said, “So…mind telling me that was _that_ all about?”

“’Twas nothing to worry over.  Aerie is one who needs constant stimulation. I suspect she was bored and thought baiting me would amuse her. ”

“Hmmm…she seemed more hostile than bored.  And what did she mean with that last remark about ‘short-lived humans making it easier for you?” 

He shrugged, “Who _knows_ ,” he replied. “I’m sure she doesn’t.  Don’t let her words concern you.  He smiled pleasantly, trying to keep his voice level, although inside he felt himself glowing red hot with anger over both Aerie’s attempt to goad him as well as her final, rather catty remark.  Aware that Jen was watching him closely, he made an effort to retain a calm expression as they headed out through the Promenade’s broad arches and back towards the King’s Cottage in search of Tristan.

 

 


	40. Reverberations

The walk back to The King’s Cottage was quiet and uneventful. Jen stared straight ahead, lost in thought as she pondered Aerie’s words. Surely Haer’Dalis wouldn’t have risked so much if he didn’t care; if he were just acting. Or would he? She remembered Nalia’s comments about his less than empathetic response to her feelings about her father’s death and his apparent lack of concern over putting Jen in harm’s way the first time they’d visited Cambrel. And then there was Aerie. A lot of undercurrents there. I wonder what happened between them. She shot a surreptitious glance at Haer’Dalis. His face wore its usual calm, genial expression although he’d been unusually taciturn since leaving Waukeen’s Promenade.

As they reached the inn’s front door Jaheira appeared. She smiled pleasantly, seeming unsurprised to see them. “Hello,” she said to both before turning to Haer’Dalis. “Your timing is impeccable as always. Tristan has news of a job. You’ll want to see her right away.” She then looked at Jen, “How are you feeling young one?”

Jen looked at her speculatively. Although she didn’t know Jaheira well, she seemed a possible source of information since, according to Nalia, she’d traveled with Tristan the longest and had undoubtedly known Aerie. “I’m fine,” she replied, “thanks to you and Haery.” She paused, unsure of how to proceed and then said, “Uh…Jaheira…”

“Yes?”

“Are you going anywhere? I mean, would you have time to talk with me about something?” Jen glanced towards Haer’Dalis and then back at Jaheira who smiled knowingly at her.

“Ah…I see. Of course I have time. I’m on my way to see Nalia. Are you on your way back to the Iron Rose? Shall I walk with you?

“That would be lovely.” Jen turned to Haer’Dalis, “Why don’t you go ahead and talk with Tristan. I’ll meet you at the Iron Rose when you’re finished.”

He looked at her in surprise. “I thought you wanted to talk with her about joining the company?”

“I do – I mean, I did, but it seems to me that she might be more willing to listen to you. I think it would make sense if you talked with her alone. Do you mind?

He stared at her for a moment and then nodded. “Alright. I’ll see you later then.”

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jen watched Haer’Dalis disappear into the King’s Cottage and then began walking the short distance to the Iron Rose, Jaheira beside her. “Thank you. I have a couple of questions that I’d really rather ask without Haer’Dalis being here.”

The older woman smiled encouragingly at her. “What about?”

“Well, Haery and I just met a former colleague of yours – Aerie – in Waukeen’s Promenade,” Jen said. “It was pretty awkward. She’s pregnant….” She stopped, unsure why she’d mentioned that fact when what she really wanted was to understand Aerie’s comments. “That’s not what I want to talk about though,” she added hurriedly. “It just made me think about things….”

“It’s alright, I suspect you do have a number of questions. I’ve been wondering when you’d come talk to me about things. Your relationship with Haer’Dalis is new but moving forward quickly from what I’ve seen and the beginnings of a…” she paused and looked around before continuing in a lower tone, “physical relationship can be a bit awkward if one is unprepared for them. And in your case, not knowing how such things are dealt with here must make it doubly so.” Her face became serious, “I assume that’s one of the things you wanted to talk about.”

Looking at her in astonishment, Jen said hurriedly, “Uh…it didn’t occurred to me that we’d be compatible that way.” She flushed as Jaheira gave her a mildly astonished glance. “I know there are many types of beings here, and I guess it does make sense but….” She smiled ruefully at Jaheira, “Ok, it was probably really foolish of me not to be thinking about the possibilities and you’re right; I don’t want to risk it.”

Jaheria gave her a warm smile, her expression conveying understanding as well as mild amusement. “I’m well able to make up whatever potions you need both for before and after. Shall I make up both?”

Flushing, Jen nodded, “Um….yes.” She looked around rapidly, relieved to see that although there were passersby, they were nowhere near the two women. Although she’d never considered herself prudish, she did feel a bit stunned at having the subject addressed in such a public place.

Jaheira didn’t seem notice her embarrassment saying, “Good, then I’ll take care of it,” in blithe tone. She paused looking down at the ground, her expression thoughtful, “Hmmmm…Tristan…Anomen, I wonder…” Jen heard her murmur.

“What?”

Jaheira looked up, “Nothing. I was just reminded of another conversation I need to have.”

“Oh. Anyway, I had actually wanted to ask you about a couple of things. Lifespans and Aerie although not necessarily in that order.”

“Did you now. Well, go on.”

“Anyway, about Aerie,” Jen began. Jaheira nodded, her expression becoming mildly wary. “She seemed rather upset. I gather they’d been in a relationship and just wondered about it. I wasn’t trying to snoop but I did overhear a few things. And when we left she made a remark about him taking up with ‘short-lived humans’ and I’ve been trying to figure out what she meant by that.”

“Why don’t you ask Haer’Dalis?”

“Oh I did but he put me off; and told me not to worry about it.”

Jaheira snorted rolling her eyes, “Isn’t that just like him. It’s all ‘no matter,’ entropy, and ‘meant to be.’”

Jen sighed. “I know. Anyway, I just hoped you could tell me a little about her and help me understand her remark because for some reason it’s stuck in my head.”

“I didn’t pay much attention to them when they were together to be honest,” Jaheira replied. “She was a bit shy and very tenderhearted; always willing to help others, not unlike Nalia actually.” She shrugged, “But unlike Nalia, she was also somewhat…clingy which is not surprising given her history. It always seemed to me that she was seeking somewhere safe to take root. Or perhaps seeking someone who could help her feel useful and worthwhile.”

Jen nodded thoughtfully, “I’ve had a few students like that. Kids vacillating between being pleasers and taking everything personally. Some of them had surprisingly emotional meltdowns when their feelings were hurt.”

“Yes, even the nicest of people can behave impulsively,” Jaheria replied. “And as to her comment, it’s true that humans don’t live as long as other beings. For example a half-elf such as myself generally lives twice or even three times as long as a human.”

They had reached the Iron Rose. Jen stopped at the foot of the path to the front door, “So what Aerie was really saying was that I’m just a blip on Haer’Dalis’s horizon. Well, isn’t that comforting.”

“Child, no one is guaranteed a long life. My husband Khalid was also half-elven for all the good it did him.” A look of sorrow crossed her face and she shook her head, her lips pressed tightly together. “But enough. I really think this is a conversation best pursued with Haer’Dalis.” She patted Jen’s arm, “I’ll come by later with those potions I spoke of.” With a last quick smile she hurried off leaving Jen to her own devices.

Jen watched her go and then turned and went into the inn. As she stepped through the door, she noticed that the common room air seemed overpoweringly warm and thick, filled the lingering scents of wood smoke and spilled beer. The odors, along with the heat left her feeling slightly ill. Fresh air suddenly seemed quite necessary and far more desirable. Catching the eye of a nearby server, she ordered wine, then left the room, escaping to a favorite little bench hidden at the back of the inn’s small garden where she sat down think.  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
Haer’Dalis watched Jen’s retreating back with a mixture of irritation and concern. Aerie’s parting shot had glanced off its intended target but had still scored a hit.

He had to admit Aerie had surprised him. Initially attracted by her shy beauty, he’d encouraged her acting skills, both as a way to spend time with her and to bolster her self-confidence. They’d spent many enjoyable hours together discussing plays and characterizations. At the time he’d noted with some amusement that she seemed to take a particular pleasure in reading and practicing roles that were quite different from her own personality. He’d been aware even at first that she sought a security and emotional attachment he’d not been able or willing to give but he’d never expected her to have either the depth or the ability take him to task in such a deviously clever way. Sighing he thought, The hells hath no fury like a woman scorned; an old adage once again proved true. Then he brightened. I taught her quite well it seems.

The common room at The King’s Cottage was full and rather noisy. He looked about, eventually locating Tristan at a table overlooking the street. She looked up with a smile as he approached.

“Greetings, my Raven. I’m surprised to see you alone. Has our hatchling knight been recalled by his Order?” He looked at her hopefully.

She laughed. “I am sorry to disappoint you, but he’ll be staying with us. He’s wrapping up some business at the Temple at the moment, that’s all.”

He seated himself across from her. “”Tis best he’s not here. What I have to say does not concern Anomen.” She gave him a searching look and he met her gaze squarely. “I want to talk about Jen.”

She nodded, “I thought as much. Let me guess. You want me to allow her to join us when we leave Athkatla.” She shrugged, “I’ll be truthful. I value your skills at intrigue and persuasion. Your ability to gather information - not to mention dispensing disinformation – has been quite useful. But no, I don’t want to bring her along.” He opened his mouth, clearly intending to protest and she put up a hand to forestall him. “Look, Haer’Dalis, I know at the moment she’s very important to you, but what if it doesn’t last? Aerie had somewhere else to go when you parted ways. Jen only has Mistress Ducey and if she left her she might not find it so easy to return. And while I like Jen well enough, my original objections to her traveling with us haven’t changed. She doesn’t have the necessary martial skills. I mean Lord Roenall nearly killed her.”

He looked at her steadily. “As to the former, my affairs are none of yours but if it makes any difference, then know I do plan to help Jen return to her world if that’s what she chooses. And, I don’t think you’ll find her disposed of so easily, particularly since the simple expedient of wearing armor will serve to prevent incidents such as the one with Farrington Roenall.”

“True,” she replied slowly and then more sharply, “You just said you’d ensure she’s able to return to her world. So are you saying that you’ve found a portal?”

“While I have no real doubts on that score, I’ll have a more definite answer to that after Jen and I visit Cambrel tomorrow. But regardless, if you’ll not accept her willingly then the choice before you is a simple one, my Raven. If you want my company, it will be at the cost of having Jen’s as well.” He leaned back, hands behind his head, watching her carefully.

Tristan sighed in annoyance. He knew she’d suspected this was coming but now that it was in front of her, she clearly didn’t like it one bit. She locked eyes with him and they stared at each other much like two dogs challenging each other over a bone.

After a few moments she broke off, rolling her eyes. “I don’t like it at all. But I’d like to keep you for as long as I can. In fact, we’ve just been asked to go to Tradesmeet and will be leaving in two days and I’d really rather not have to replace you at such short notice. So, in regards to Jen, I’ll allow it for now, but if she gets in the way or endangers one of the company she won’t be coming along on subsequent trips. I suggest you make sure she stays out of trouble.”

“I will,” he replied.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

By the time Haer’Dalis returned to the Iron Rose, Jen had progressed past her first glass and was well into her second. Her thoughts were swirling around in her brain much like the wine in her cup and although she was feeling mildly and rather pleasantly inebriated, she hadn’t made much progress in determining exactly how she felt about the encounter with Aerie or the questions that it raised in regards to her burgeoning relationship with Haer’Dalis.

She looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps and saw Haer’Dalis coming towards her. He sat down, leaning over to kiss her, then took the wine out of her hand and took a drink. “I have news my love. Tristan’s agreed that you join us.”

“Tristan’s agreed,” she repeated, making air quotes around the words. “I take it then that she didn’t object too much to the idea?”

“’Twas not her first choice but she was willing to see reason. And speaking of travel, Tristan has us leaving for Tradesmeet in two days time. And we owe Cambrel a visit. I thought perhaps tomorrow,” he replied, taking another swallow of wine. “

She nodded and took the cup out of his hand, giving him a rather austere look. “Hey! Get your own!”

He laughed at the indignation in her tone, “Not a bad thought.” He rose, returning a short time later with both a mug and bottle of Firewine in his hands, refilling her cup before pouring one of his own. He put arm around her but she shrugged it off, turning so that she faced him on the narrow bench. They drank silently for a few moments and finally he said, “You seem a little far away my Kestrel.”

“I’m just thinking.” Sighing she said, “My brain’s going around and around right now. I know you told me not to worry about what Aerie said but it was pretty hard to let go.” She had the grace to look a trifle shamefaced as she added, “Since you didn’t seem to want to talk, I talked a bit with Jaheira who told me that said even a half elf has a life expectancy of at least twice mine...maybe more.” Glancing at him curiously, she added, “Aren’t you a half-elf?”

“More or less.” He raised his cup, looking warily at her over the rim, “What does it matter?”

“It matters because that would suggest you’ve got a life expectancy much longer than mine. About what – 160 years? 180 years? While mine is about 85 if I’m lucky.”

“I suppose ‘tis possible, he replied somewhat reluctantly.

“Which means you’ll outlive me by quite a bit.” Jen pursed her lips, her expression subdued as she starred thoughtfully into the wine in her glass. “So just out of curiosity, how old are you?”

He shrugged, “My Kestrel, I understand the idea that I might outlive you is disconcerting, but while it’s true I have elven blood, I am also – and perhaps more to the point – a tiefling. And tieflings rarely die of natural causes. Does it truly matter?”

“Maybe not,” she said, “And don’t think I didn’t notice didn’t answer the age question. But as far as whether it matters – no, I don’t really care about your actual age, but the whole topic just made me think more about the future. My future. I’ll be giving up a lot to be with you. I’ve been thinking about that. I’ll be leaving behind my family, my friends, my career – everything I’ve ever known. It’s not that it didn’t come to mind before, but the future seemed more distant; sort of a romantic dream. Your ex-girlfriend – Aerie’s - remark about humans brought me back to reality; made me think about what I’m doing. And it never occurred to me that I’d become old long before you do, but now that it has, I’ve been thinking about what that might mean and whether I’m willing to give everything up.”

He shook his head, “Aerie’s words were meant to sting. She seems to have done her job well if it has left such doubts in your mind.” Lifting his glass he drained it and then looked at her, “The future comes only one day at a time. I don’t know what it will hold, but I do know I’d much prefer mine to be with you for as much time as we can have together. And as I’ve said before, I will help you return to your world at any time you should wish it.”

She nodded thoughtfully, allowing his words to sink in. Then another thought struck her and she glanced at him sharply, “By the way, I couldn’t help but notice that you seemed awfully relieved to see Aerie’s husband. Please tell me meeting pregnant ex-girlfriends isn’t going to happen often.”

He grinned somewhat ruefully, “No it won’t. And as to Aerie, I do hope Airahil brings her some measure of happiness.”

Their eyes met. “What happened with Aerie?” Jen asked. “On our walk back from the Promenade you didn’t want to talk about it and I really don’t want to pry but I’m just trying to understand what happened earlier. Jaheira described her as shy and seeking to please but she sure didn’t seem like that a little while ago.”

“She felt I didn’t truly love her,” he said slowly, “and perhaps I did not.” He closed his eyes and fell silent; turning inwards so completely that left Jen began to feel very alone on the small bench.

“Haery,” she began, putting a hand towards him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked….”

She stopped as he abruptly opened his eyes and then reached out to cover her hand with his and squeeze it slightly. “’Tis alright. In part I did not wish to talk about Aerie because I thought it might make matters worse.”

Jen nodded, “I understand. But you’ve been honest about having other involvements in the past. Besides, why shouldn’t you have been in love before? I’ve had other relationships and run into ex-girlfriends before for that matter. This just felt…different”

Shrugging he replied, “Well, if it will help you then know that Aerie’s history is harsh and violent and she suffered a great deal, although ‘shy’ is not a word I would use to describe her; ‘confiding’ perhaps and ‘lacking self-confidence’ seem more apt. She’s quite lovely – I was attracted to her and perhaps….” He reached down for the bottle of Firewine, pouring himself another cup and taking a long swallow before continuing. “At first I thought acting might be a way for her to find herself. But as we grew closer it became clear that she wanted to be attached to someone; perhaps needs to be – completely entangled and enmeshed in order to feel loved. My thought is that she needs others to help her believe in herself for she does not. In the end she told me she could not live with my beliefs and seemed to feel that I could not give her what she needed. So she left.”

Jen nodded slowly. So that’s it. And I told Haer’Dalis I couldn’t ask him to change. I know I can’t. But I still don’t want to be another one in a long line of relationships. Aloud she said, “Thank you for telling me. I guess I’m wondering if I’m not more like Aerie than you think. I don’t mean about needing someone to tell me who I am, just that your beliefs are very different than mine at times and I get the feeling that although you say you love me, it can change at any time. That from your perspective - the Doomguard perspective, that’s just how things go. Certainly changes to relationships are part of life, but I believe anything worth having is worth fighting for.”

“Don’t doubt my feelings for you, my Kestrel. I’ve told you before that I do not believe they will change soon. You are not Aerie and I am not the same as I was then. To my mind, you are well worth fighting for and I believe I have shown you that. I altered time on your behalf. Is that not proof enough?”

She found herself flushing as the truth of his words struck her. He did find a way to come after me; to save me. Finally, Jen nodded. “Yes, you did. And I know you’ve not had it easy either. I guess we all have a history; however, it was a shock to run into a bit of yours today and in quite that manner.”

“For me as well,” he replied. “So has meeting Aerie changed your mind about us?”

“I can’t say I’m completely comfortable or that questions won’t come up and I can’t say we won’t have some version of this conversation again but right now? I do want to be with you Haery. I haven’t changed my mind.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said his smile reflecting both pleasure and relief.

She leaned against him with a sigh and he put an arm around her, pulling her close. This time she didn’t resist although the movement jostled their cups, sloshing wine onto their clothes. He laughed ruefully, setting down his mug before taking hers and putting it down as well. “I had thought the wine might ease our conversation but now….”

“Yeah,” she agreed, “I’d rather drink it than wear it.” All of a sudden, being in his arms felt right again and she noticed her doubts receding slightly. “Look,” she said, “there’s been so much thrown at me lately; it’s hard to keep up. Your ex-girlfriend was just one more thing. But I’ll be ok.”

Smiling, he leaned forward and kissed her. His lips were warm and gentle at first, but as the kiss went on, became more insistent and demanding. They remained locked in each other’s arms, until a sudden crash from the inn’s kitchen followed by a series of shrieks made them jump and move apart. From the noise, it seemed as though the inn had suffered a minor kitchen disaster and the subsequent sounds of broken crockery being cleared as well as the curses that accompanied it were hardly conducive to romantic reconciliation. They looked at each other helplessly, laughing at the rather prosaic interruption. The bench no longer seemed quiet or secluded, particularly after they noticed a kitchen boy heading towards the back of the building with a bucket of broken dishes. After a few moments, Haer’Dalis said, “Perhaps there are more private places to be found. What say you my love?”

“Yes, I agree. Perhaps upstairs?” she asked. He nodded agreement then rose and led her into the inn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Abraham Lincoln


	41. The Way Home

It was late morning by the time Jen and Haer’Dalis finally exited the Iron Rose and headed towards Cambrel’s home. Haer’Dalis was wearing his usual armor and had insisted that Jen wear her own protective gear saying, “Although our route may change, the dangers remain the same and I’d rather have you safe, my Kestrel.”

The trip however, proved uneventful and in a short time they were standing once again on the cottage’s small porch, knocking at the door. After a few moments they heard footsteps followed by Muggsy’s appearance. He looked at them, his face tightening in a combination of anger and surprise that was also reflected his surly tone as he said, “Back again, are you? What could you possibly want now?”

Astonished, Jen stammered, “But-but the last time we were here your…uh Master _told_ us to come back. He needed time to do some research.”

“Yes,” said the halfling, “but that was before….” His voice trailed off and he glowered at Haer’Dalis whose own face remained expressionless. Jen looked from one to the other as an awkward silence ensued but before she could speak, the stillness was broken by the sound of a crash from within the residence. All three of them jumped at the sudden noise and Muggsy spun on his heel, looking down the hall but didn’t leave the doorway. Haer’Dalis took advantage of the distraction. “We’re here to see your Master, oh Mouse, not exchange words with you on the doorstep,” he said with some asperity. “And don’t try to deny his presence for ‘tis clear he is within.”

Muggsy didn’t reply but the manner in which he looked at them, nose in the air and jaw thrust forward belligerently, made his feelings quite clear. He stood back however, waving them into the house. Puzzled by the halfling’s manner, Jen glanced towards Haer’Dalis to see if he had any clue. He shrugged, but his expression remained so bland that she wasn’t sure if he was indicating a lack of understanding or merely indifference. They entered the hall and followed Muggsy to Cambrel’s study. He didn’t follow them in but simply watched them enter before heading towards the back of the cottage.

They found the cartographer putting away a small broom. A dustpan lay nearby containing the shards of a small teapot and loose tea leaves while his copper teakettle sat on the hearth, still steaming, its purpose clearly aborted for the time being. He turned as they entered, gesturing towards the two chairs in front of his desk before going back to finish up his task. As she seated herself, Jen noticed that the table’s former clutter had been arranged into neat piles, leaving most of the space clear.

Cambrel joined them a minute later, pausing to move a nearby stack of documents further away from where Haer’Dalis had seated himself. His greeting was oddly anonymous as if he had no knowledge of why they had come. “Good afternoon and how may I serve you?”

“Perhaps you remember our visit several days ago. About a portal map?” Haer’Dalis replied.

Cambrel nodded, “Indeed I do and I wish I could help you.” He shrugged, his hands opening in front of him in a gesture of defeat.

Haer’Dalis eyed him closely then let his gaze roam around the tidy tabletop before coming back to Cambrel’s face. “So you didn’t find what you or we were seeking my Hound?”

The other man shrugged, his eyes flickering over them dismissively. “No. But then there was little information to begin with.”

Jen’s face fell. _Nothing. So I’ve got no way home?_ Haer’Dalis however, looked at the scholar narrowly, saying in a tone of disbelief, “Given your expertise and experience as both traveler and scholar, I find it unlikely that your search resulted in naught.” His voice became firmer and more confident as he continued. “And it seems to me that you dismiss the matter rather easily. I begin to think my Hound, given what I know of your knowledge of the planes, your reputation and your love of gold, that ‘tis likely to be less a matter of ‘wish’ and more of ‘will not.’ Perhaps you think to adjust the terms of our agreement?” He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back, watching Cambrel carefully.

The man drew himself up, his eyes hardening as he looked at Haer’Dalis. “Perhaps. Although it is more a matter of missing assets than gold.”

“Missing assets?” Haer’Dalis looked puzzled. ”And in what way do your ‘missing assets’ have anything to do with your ability to locate a portal that will allow Jen to return to her rightful plane?”

“Why only that my energy has been directed to finding missing property rather than missing portals. But perhaps you can shed light on its disappearance?” Cambrel shot a hard look at Haer’Dalis who stared back at him calmly.

Haer'Dalis shrugged, his expression shifting and becoming unreadable. Jen regarded them both in growing confusion. What are they talking about? She looked from one to the other, noticing that both were now cultivating carefully neutral expressions much like card players attempting to bluff. Her teeth clenched involuntarily as a feeling of exasperation swept over her. _It’s always something with Haer’Dalis. This is just great. And it won’t get us anywhere._ Her face settled into the unsmiling and rather serious look she usually reserved for recalcitrant students as she watched the two men continue to stare at each other. Finally she leaned forward, her palms making a slight smacking sound as they hit the table. “I don’t know what’s going on. But it seems to me that I’m part of this equation. When we were last here, you told us you thought it likely you could find a portal or conduit to my world. You asked for time. We’ve given it to you. Now you’re behaving as if something has changed and nothing has been done. I still need a way home. _Did you find something or not?_ ” Her tone was firm and confident although inside she certainly didn’t feel that way.

Both males looked over as if suddenly realizing her presence and then Cambrel said, “My research is complete but things have changed since your last visit I find I am missing something of great value and I would have it returned to me before we proceed.”

“And you think we have something to do with your missing item because….?” She straightened in her chair, both her gaze and tone continuing to be firmly interrogative. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the corners of Haer’Dalis’s mouth begin to turn up in amusement as Cambrel looked at her sourly.

“So your...friend...has not told you all I see. You really should _not_ trust a tiefling, my dear,” he said.

“Not told me all of what?” she asked. She continued to stare at him determinedly. Although she noted the slur, she chose to not respond to it and hoped that just this once Haer’Dalis would let it pass as well. She felt quite sure she was on to something important and thought Cambrel’s remark was intended to distract her from pursuing the facts.

Shrugging, Cambrel gave in, “Has he not told you that the last time you were here, he took a scroll given to me by the Lady of Pain herself? It contained a rather special spell.” Suddenly the memory of Haer’Dalis tucking _something_ into his sleeve during their previous visit popped into her head and she looked at him questioningly.

“Naught left with me that day that ‘twas not mine.” Haer’Dalis said, leaning back in his chair. His eyes too were on Cambrel and Jen had the distinct impression that for all that he appeared relaxed, he was in fact, wound up as tightly as a spring.

“So you _admit_ you took the scroll and are suggesting that it belonged to you?!” Cambrel exclaimed indignantly.

Jen looked at Haer’Dalis in confusion. _A spell that changed time. Arshaka said that they cast a spell that somehow turned back time._ She looked at Cambrel, “Perhaps there’s an explanation?”

“Why yes, I’m sure there is. The scroll is quite valuable and I suspect the intent to be an exercise in bardic irony with the proceeds of the scroll’s sale being given me as recompense for my efforts in finding your portal,” Cambrel replied. Although his statement was directed at her, his angry glance included them both.

Haer’Dalis laughed, the legs of his chair scraping on the floor as he suddenly leaned forward, his eyes boring into Cambrel. “Perhaps an explanation is in order, although ‘tis not the one you think.” He directed a rather predatory smile towards the older man. Jen felt her stomach clench rather anxiously for although she’d seen Haer’Dalis upset before, something told her that this was about more than simply being thwarted. However, his voice remained as controlled and calm. “Perhaps my Hound, ‘twas more a matter of reclamation than thievery.”

“Again, you admit to taking the scroll!” Cambrel’s exclamation was triumphant and he rose part way of his chair as he leaned towards them. “You’ll return it immediately!”

“Or what?” Haer’ Dalis sneered. “You’ll not give us the portal location? You’ll have me arrested? ‘Tis not as simple as that. But perhaps you _still_ do not recognize me although I certainly recognize you.” He got up, moving towards the fire before suddenly spinning to look at his fellow planetraveler. Cambrel stared back at him in astonishment. “What, you don’t remember? Then perhaps a tale is in order. A tale of the City of Doors and of your past.” He paused dramatically. ”And of mine.”

Jen rolled her eyes at Haer’Dalis’s theatrics but Cambrel straightened in his chair. “You begin to interest me, exceedingly my good bard. Do go on.” He folded his hands across his stomach, his manner one of polite forbearance.

“I thought I might,” Haer’Dalis replied, “This Sparrow does not hold you _entirely_ responsible for your lack of memory for I was but one of many seeking your services at the time.” The cartographer looked at him sharply but said nothing. “Sigil is the City of Doors but as we both know, this soubriquet is but a bitter jest.” He glanced at Jen, “No doors exist - only portals and those few available for common use are in rather inconvenient locations. However there are any number of hidden exits available for those with sufficient resources.” His eyes went back to Cambrel, “And _you_ were one with a reputation for mapping hidden portals; you provided a service…as long as one could pay.”

The bard began pacing back and forth in front of the fire, his eyes remaining on Cambre’s face. “As it so happens, I needed your services, for several comrades and I had been arrested for allegedly fomenting a plot against Erin Darkflame. We were condemned to death. As you know, this wasn’t an unusual outcome for tieflings accused of a serious crime. But my sister came to you asking for the location of a portal to the Primes and you agreed.” He shrugged, spreading his hands. “There is always a price for such things but this time, the cost was unusual. Not coin but an item. _A very specific item._ ” His tone became firm and emphatic as he said the last phrase, arching his brow to stress its importance. “ _And I think we both know what it was._ ”

“Yes,” Cambrel replied, giving him a look of startled recognition, “I believe we do.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “As I’ve said, you admit that the scroll is mine yet you have taken it… _reclaimed_ it is how I believe you put it. And although you have my property you suggest I ignore – even forgive – the theft and give you a portal location. A curious circumstance and rather faulty thinking on your part for I see no reason to do such a thing. Return the scroll to me and we’ll go about our business as originally agreed. Unless you have alternative proposal?”

“I would simply remind that you received the scroll not from The Lady but from my sister. The scroll is valuable; the focus of numerous faction plots; something any resident of Sigil knows. The Guvners were rumored to have stolen the scroll from the Lady. How you learned of it, I know not, but you asked my sister to investigate and steal the scroll for you. This was to be the payment for my escape. She kept her end of bargain but you did not.” Haer’Dalis smiled broadly, showing his teeth in a wolfish grin. “Oh there was a portal my Hound, but not to the requested – _or expected_ \- destination. The hells are grim places and ones in which most travelers do not easily survive as you well know or even anticipated. Thus you were paid for a service that was not strictly rendered.” He added skeptically, “ _Surely_ my sister did not fail to tell you that a penalty would be exacted for misdirection. Therefore, consider my…acquisition of the scroll as a form of refund and be thankful that no more is asked of you.” Jen watched as he moved swiftly around the table, looming over Cambrel, his hands on the hilts of his swords. “As to the scroll - the spell has been cast and with the Lady’s concurrence. And I believe she retained possession of it for it was hers to begin with.”

“Ah. Well, since you cannot return the scroll, our discussion is at an end.” Cambrel replied. He spoke bravely enough but he quailed under Haer’Dalis’s gaze, sliding back in his chair in an attempt to move as far away from the angry tiefling as possible.

“I think not. ‘Tis a separate matter. You agreed to look for a portal location, my Hound; beyond that you agreed to show me the map showing its location and connections.”

Cambrel shook his head. “No….” he began.

“’Tis not in your best interest to refuse.” Haer’Dalis said firmly. “My sister who is quite clever has undoubtedly made sure that all signs of the scroll’s loss point to _you_. Your exit from Sigil and your presence on the Primes seems confirmation that you were aware of the possibility…and the dangers of discovery. ‘Tis certain the Guvner’s believe you have it and ‘tis equally certain they want it back.” His mouth twisted into a caustic grin. “You asked earlier whether I had another proposal. ‘Tis just this: the issue of the scroll is moot. You obtained it under false pretenses and no longer possess it. Yet it hangs over your head – a threat for which you have no response. Therefore my Hound, choose your fate. Will you pay or be paid? Keep our original bargain and you’ll receive both coin and the knowledge that you’ll not see me again, nor will I aid anyone seeking your direction. You can travel elsewhere to assure your safety. Refuse and you will most certainly find yourself paying the cost you’ve worked so diligently to avoid. A trip to the City of Doors, a word in the right ears about your direction. ‘Tis accomplished easily enough.” As he spoke, he pulled Chaos out of its sheath, turning the blade to and fro in his hands, light catching and spilling off its well-honed edges.

The older man fell back in his chair, swallowing hard, his eyes widening. “But the scroll…if _they’re_ looking for it….” he gasped.

Haer’Dalis laughed, “Yes, I’m sure the Guvners are looking for it…or what’s more to the point, by now they’re looking for _you_. And as we both know, the fact that they have yet to appear does not mean they won’t. But enough talk! Make your choice and quickly.”

“I’ll give you your portal location,” Cambrel replied, sighing heavily. He rose from the chair, his posture signaling defeat, and walked slowly over to a cabinet on the far side of the room where he carefully removed an old and faded scroll case, bringing it back to the table. Once there, he opened it, removing and unrolling several large maps. Jen looked curiously at the first one. Her immediate impression was of a large and somewhat unruly tree whose branches stretched in all directions. A second map was produced of what appeared to be a series of circles and spheres all sharing the same mid-point.

The maps made no sense and it certainly didn’t look like any she’d ever seen before. “How do you even read this?” she asked.

Haer’Dalis smiled at her and pointed to a large circle in the map’s center. “We’re here. This is the material plane that holds Toril, the world we’re currently on. These,” he drew his finger along several of the outstretched lines, “are realms and planes. For example, these are the celestial planes,” he gestured to the lines on the left side of the map, “and these” pointing to the map’s right side, “are the fiendish planes.” Turning to Cambrel, he said, “So show me what you’ve discovered.”

Cambrel spread four maps across the large table, bending over them to point to various lines as he talked. He pointed to a map of Faerun. “You appear to have come in by the Darkwood Portal.” He gestured to the location. “Although portals can shift and change, that one had been documented as being relatively stable for many years. There appears to be no other portal to your realm, however, I have found a conduit that may be suitable. Most likely its end is anchored in a place of ancient magic.” He examined the map more closely, pointing towards a set of symbols. “Ah yes. Sorcerer’s Isle.”

“So you believe this Sorcerer’s Isle is on Earth. But where? How do I know exactly where I’m going to come out?” Jen asked.

He pointed to the fourth map whose landmasses looked strangely familiar. As she looked to where he was pointing she recognized the coastline. _California, Oregon, Washington. Home!_ Jen found that her heart starting to thump rapidly as she continued to recognize landmarks and realized that the conduit’s end came out in the center of a small island in the middle of a lake which had been formed in the remains of large and long extinct volcanic crater. “Wizards’ Island!” she exclaimed. She beamed at Haer’Dalis and began dancing about the room in her excitement. “Wizards’ Island! It’s not exactly next door but still, it’s not too far from my home!” She threw her arms around him, giving him a quick hug and smiling happily at Cambrel. He looked at her rather dourly for a moment, however, her elation was infectious and eventually he began to smile back at her as Haer’Dalis went back to study the maps carefully for several more minutes.

Finally he straightened. “So my Hound, the route appears sound. A conduit is not what I’d hoped but ‘twill serve.” He glanced at Jen, “The site appears to be known to you.”

“Yes,” she exclaimed happily. “It’s in a national park. Wizard’s Island is a Native American sacred site. I’ve been there. It was a volcano and legend has it that it was created by a battle of the gods – sky vs. underworld if I remember correctly. It has a reputation; odd things happen there – sightings of strange creatures – monsters even – people disappearing, that sort of thing. So it makes a lot of sense that holds the end of a conduit.” She paused and looked at Haer’Dalis. “So what about _this_ end. Is it nearby?”

He nodded, “It’s located on the Sword Coast. ‘Tis near the Roenalls new home, in point of fact.”

“I really don’t like that but I guess there’s nothing to be done about it,” she replied with a frown.

“So,” Cambrel interjected, “since you appear to be satisfied, I believe payment is due? And then of course, you’ll be going.” He began rolling up the maps, placing them carefully back in their case.

Haer’Dalis laughed, “This Sparrow is satisfied. And now to discuss payment. I could scarcely expect to survive strolling through the streets of Athkatla carrying large amounts of coin as you well know, Hound. I’ll give a part as surety of the remainder but ‘twill be necessary for you to arrange the safe transport of your earnings.” He tossed the cartographer a small bag.

“I’ll send Muggsy to you later today then with the arrangements,” Cambrel said sourly. He picked up a small bell from the table and rang it. Muggsy appeared a moment later. “Our…guests are ready to leave. Would you show them out? And bar the door behind them if you don’t mind. I’m seeing no more callers today.” The halfing nodded, motioning to them to follow him down the hall.

As they left the cottage, Jen drew in a deep breath, feeling as buoyant as though she were floating. As she pictured seeing the familiar faces of her loved ones, her exuberance bubbled over and she began skipping– a childish gesture but one that captured her feelings of the moment. Haer’Dalis looked over at her, his look of surprise changing into a broad grin as she threw her arms around him.

“There’s a way back, Haery! I’m really going to see home again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. “Guvners” is the nickname of those belonging to the Fraternity of Order, one of Sigil’s several political factions. http://www.ashenwings.com/potentates/adventures/Planescape/fraternityoforder.html


	42. Loose Ends

“Where to now?” Jen asked as she followed Haer’Dalis onto the bridge heading out of the little pocket of homes between the Government and Temple districts.

“I thought to go back to the Iron Rose. Muggsy’s sure to turn up shortly and there are number of things to be done before we leave for Trademeet.”

“Well, I’d like to go see Nanny,” Jen replied. “I need to let her know I won’t be coming back.” She sighed guiltily and added, “I should have gone to see her yesterday. After all of Nanny’s kindness I feel a little ungrateful just taking off like this. But I can go by myself. You don’t need to go with me.”

Haer’Dalis looked at her askance but finally said, “If you must. As to Mistress Ducey, I suspect she’ll forgive you for not returning, particularly since you’ll be going with Nalia.”

“Perhaps,” Jen replied, “although I know that one of the reasons she took me in was because it was a way to ensure her independence.” She sighed, shaking her head, “She knew I wanted to go home and we always said it was temporary, but still….”

He gave her an understanding smile, “’Twill be fine, Jen.”

They parted ways at the Iron Rose. When she arrived at Nanny’s, Nalia answered the door, welcoming her happily and ushering her into the sitting room. “Jen! Tristan told me you were coming with us tomorrow!”

“I am. Does Nanny know?” Jen gave Nalia an anxious look.

“No, I haven’t said anything.” Giving Jen a quick hug, she added, “I haven’t seen you for a couple of days. Lila said you’d left her house, so I’m dying to know where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing!”

“Well,” Jen began but just then Nanny entered the room, interrupting the conversation. Jen flew over to her, throwing her arms around the old woman and exchanging enthusiastic hugs.

“I’m so glad to see you my dear! I’m making tea, so I do hope you’ll stay and have some with us.” Her words were followed almost immediately by a loud whistling coming from the kitchen.

The two women grinned at each other. “Timing is everything,” Jen said. “Why don’t you and Nalia sit down and let me take care of it.”

Nodding gratefully, Nanny sank into her favorite chair as Jen headed down the hall and entered the kitchen to pull the steaming kettle off the fire, carefully pouring the hot water into the waiting teapot and preparing a tray and taking it back to the sitting room.

Conversation was light and somewhat desultory as the three women went about the business of pouring tea and settling down in their chairs, however, eventually their talk turned to more serious topics including Nalia’s imminent departure to Trademeet. Although Jen knew she needed to tell Nanny of her own plans, she found herself feeling strangely reluctant to do so. But it was not to be avoided.  
“I’ve certainly missed you my dear! Lila sent one of her maids to stay with me but it is just not the same. It will be particularly nice to have you back now that Nalia’s about to leave me again.”

Jen carefully set her cup on the table beside to her, stammering slightly as she replied, “Well, um…you see…well, actually I’m not coming back. I’m going to Trademeet with Haery and Nalia…and then I think I’m going home – back to Earth; at least for a little while.”

“What?!” Nanny exclaimed. “When did this happen?” Her face fell, “And you’re not coming back. I understand your desire to go home although I don’t understand why you need to go to Trademeet.” She stared out the window at her garden for moment, the corners of her eyes and mouth drooping slightly. “It will be difficult to be alone again.”

“I’m sorry Nanny. I feel awful,” Jen began but the old woman turned to her, her expression relaxing into calm resignation and she waved a hand in negation.

“Pish. I will miss you but things will work out. They always do. I’ve just grown fond of you my dear, that’s all.”

“It’s not forever Nanny. I’ll be back at least to visit. Haery…” She stopped, flushing slightly as Nanny’s expression shifted from disappointment to consternation. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you but I’ll be traveling with Haer’Dalis,” she finished somewhat weakly.

Nanny looked at her sharply. “I suppose I’m not surprised although I am concerned.”

“What do you mean? I thought you were traveling with us.” Nalia interjected.

Jen nodded. “For now; but I expect at some point we’ll leave Tristan and go off on our own.”

“Oh Jen,” Nalia sighed. “I don’t really like that much. He always makes me a little uncomfortable because his reasons for doing things are just…different than most. Although I have to admit he has surprised me at times. Like at the Roenalls.”

She suddenly straightened in the chair, her voice taking on a tone of righteous indignation. “Which reminds me…I do want to know why I wasn’t told that he was Aidan! Gods! I nearly made a fool of myself over him! At the very least one of you could’ve given me some kind of signal to let me know that wasn’t real!” She pressed her lips together. “Of course,” she said bitterly, “Haer’Dalis probably thought it was funny.”

Jen reached over, putting a hand on Nalia’s shoulder and squeezing it comfortingly. “No he didn’t,” she said soothingly. “But you’re right. He enjoys acting a bit too much sometimes.” She went back to her own chair and sat down. “But to be honest, you’ve never hidden that you have mixed feelings about him and Tristan figured if you knew he was Aidan you’d act differently which might have tipped off the Roenalls.”

Nalia twisted around to look at her, still not ready to let the matter go. “What about at the ball? You couldn’t have dropped just the slightest hint that night? I mean gods, Jen. I’m your friend.”

Although surprised and somewhat annoyed by Nalia’s persistence, Jen kept her tone even as she replied, “You think I didn’t want to? Do you have any idea what it was like to just sit there and watch you with Haery? And have Lady Skytower constantly showing up with ‘eligible young men’ she wanted to introduce to me? I would have loved to have ended the whole charade. But I couldn’t – not if we were going to succeed!”

“I suppose you’re right,” Nalia said reluctantly. “It’s just that I was so…embarrassed when I found out. And even though he saved your life, I worry about you being with him.” She stopped as if suddenly aware of what she was saying and how it must sound. “I’m sorry. I know you’re an adult and can make up your own mind. It’s just that he’s got a well-deserved reputation and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Nanny had been sitting quietly as they talked, but now spoke up. “Nor do I. Allow him to take you back to your world if you must, but let him leave. You’ll have your family and friends once again and in the end it will be better for both of you.”

Jen took a deep breath as she tried not to frown. “Where to now?” Jen asked as she followed Haer’Dalis onto the bridge heading out of the little pocket of homes between the Government and Temple districts.

“I thought to go back to the Iron Rose. Muggsy’s sure to turn up shortly and there are number of things to be done before we leave for Trademeet.”

“Well, I’d like to go see Nanny,” Jen replied. “I need to let her know I won’t be coming back.” She sighed guiltily and added, “I should have gone to see her yesterday. After all of Nanny’s kindness I feel a little ungrateful just taking off like this. But I can go by myself. You don’t need to go with me.”

Haer’Dalis looked at her askance but finally said, “If you must. As to Mistress Ducey, I suspect she’ll forgive you for not returning, particularly since you’ll be going with Nalia.”

“Perhaps,” Jen replied, “although I know that one of the reasons she took me in was because it was a way to ensure her independence.” She sighed, shaking her head, “She knew I wanted to go home and we always said it was temporary, but still….”

He gave her an understanding smile, “’Twill be fine, Jen.”

They parted ways at the Iron Rose. When she arrived at Nanny’s, Nalia answered the door, welcoming her happily and ushering her into the sitting room. “Jen! Tristan told me you were coming with us tomorrow!”

“I am. Does Nanny know?” Jen gave Nalia an anxious look.

“No, I haven’t said anything.” Giving Jen a quick hug, she added, “I haven’t seen you for a couple of days. Lila said you’d left her house, so I’m dying to know where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing!”

“Well,” Jen began but just then Nanny entered the room, interrupting the conversation. Jen flew over to her, throwing her arms around the old woman and exchanging enthusiastic hugs.

“I’m so glad to see you my dear! I’m making tea, so I do hope you’ll stay and have some with us.” Her words were followed almost immediately by a loud whistling coming from the kitchen.

The two women grinned at each other. “Timing is everything,” Jen said. “Why don’t you and Nalia sit down and let me take care of it.”

Nodding gratefully, Nanny sank into her favorite chair as Jen headed down the hall and entered the kitchen to pull the steaming kettle off the fire, carefully pouring the hot water into the waiting teapot and preparing a tray and taking it back to the sitting room.

Conversation was light and somewhat desultory as the three women went about the business of pouring tea and settling down in their chairs, however, eventually their talk turned to more serious topics including Nalia’s imminent departure to Trademeet. Although Jen knew she needed to tell Nanny of her own plans, she found herself feeling strangely reluctant to do so. But it was not to be avoided.  
“I’ve certainly missed you my dear! Lila sent one of her maids to stay with me but it is just not the same. It will be particularly nice to have you back now that Nalia’s about to leave me again.”

Jen carefully set her cup on the table beside to her, stammering slightly as she replied, “Well, um…you see…well, actually I’m not coming back. I’m going to Trademeet with Haery and Nalia…and then I think I’m going home – back to Earth; at least for a little while.”

“What?!” Nanny exclaimed. “When did this happen?” Her face fell, “And you’re not coming back. I understand your desire to go home although I don’t understand why you need to go to Trademeet.” She stared out the window at her garden for moment, the corners of her eyes and mouth drooping slightly. “It will be difficult to be alone again.”

“I’m sorry Nanny. I feel awful,” Jen began but the old woman turned to her, her expression relaxing into calm resignation and she waved a hand in negation.

“Pish. I will miss you but things will work out. They always do. I’ve just grown fond of you my dear, that’s all.”

“It’s not forever Nanny. I’ll be back at least to visit. Haery…” She stopped, flushing slightly as Nanny’s expression shifted from disappointment to consternation. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you but I’ll be traveling with Haer’Dalis,” she finished somewhat weakly.

Nanny looked at her sharply. “I suppose I’m not surprised although I am concerned.”

“What do you mean? I thought you were traveling with us.” Nalia interjected.

Jen nodded. “For now; but I expect at some point we’ll leave Tristan and go off on our own.”

“Oh Jen,” Nalia sighed. “I don’t really like that much. He always makes me a little uncomfortable because his reasons for doing things are just…different than most. Although I have to admit he has surprised me at times. Like at the Roenalls.”

She suddenly straightened in the chair, her voice taking on a tone of righteous indignation. “Which reminds me…I do want to know why I wasn’t told that he was Aidan! Gods! I nearly made a fool of myself over him! At the very least one of you could’ve given me some kind of signal to let me know that wasn’t real!” She pressed her lips together. “Of course,” she said bitterly, “Haer’Dalis probably thought it was funny.”

Jen reached over, putting a hand on Nalia’s shoulder and squeezing it comfortingly. “No he didn’t,” she said soothingly. “But you’re right. He enjoys acting a bit too much sometimes.” She went back to her own chair and sat down. “But to be honest, you’ve never hidden that you have mixed feelings about him and Tristan figured if you knew he was Aidan you’d act differently which might have tipped off the Roenalls.”

Nalia twisted around to look at her, still not ready to let the matter go. “What about at the ball? You couldn’t have dropped just the slightest hint that night? I mean gods, Jen. I’m your friend.”

Although surprised and somewhat annoyed by Nalia’s persistence, Jen kept her tone even as she replied, “You think I didn’t want to? Do you have any idea what it was like to just sit there and watch you with Haery? And have Lady Skytower constantly showing up with ‘eligible young men’ she wanted to introduce to me? I would have loved to have ended the whole charade. But I couldn’t – not if we were going to succeed!”

“I suppose you’re right,” Nalia said reluctantly. “It’s just that I was so…embarrassed when I found out. And even though he saved your life, I worry about you being with him.” She stopped as if suddenly aware of what she was saying and how it must sound. “I’m sorry. I know you’re an adult and can make up your own mind. It’s just that he’s got a well-deserved reputation and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Nanny had been sitting quietly as they talked, but now spoke up. “Nor do I. Allow him to take you back to your world if you must, but let him leave. You’ll have your family and friends once again and in the end it will be better for both of you.”

Jen took a deep breath as she tried not to frown. Are we really having this conversation again? “Look,” she said, “I really appreciate your concern but I want to be with Haery. Anyway, I’m not leaving immediately. I’m going to Trademeet with you Nalia.” Turning to Nanny she added, “And I can never thank you enough for taking me in. I will miss living with you but I’m not gone forever. I do want to come back and visit.”   
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
There was no sign of Haer’Dalis at the Iron Rose but Jen found that he – or someone – had left a large and rather bulky pack in her room. She examined it carefully. It was made of a heavy canvas-like material with stout leather bindings and straps and she was willing to bet that it weighed at least 10 pounds even without the additional weight of her belongings. When I get home I am going to make sure I bring back my own pack and gear. And get some for Haery too. It’s crazy to carry this much weight if you don’t have to!

Sitting down on the bed, she looked around the room, trying to figure out where to start.   
Many of her clothes seemed to be on the floor although she honestly didn’t remember tossing them aside so carelessly. Sighing, she got up and began to gathering her clothes and possessions, tossing them onto the bed.

Opening the backpack she saw it already contained an assortment of food and basic utensils. She also noticed that in lieu of a sleeping bag and hydration bladder, the pack had a thick blanket roll and large canteen tied beneath its main pouch. Her daypack lay nearby and she pulled it towards her, emptying it of such essentials as her flashlight, storm-proof matches, first aid kit and other necessities, stowing them carefully in the larger pack along with her clothes. She briefly considered abandoning the canteen in favor of her Camelbak’s hydration bladder but eventually decided against it. No protection in the big pack. All I need is to have it break and get everything wet. Once all her gear was stowed, she hefted the large pack onto her shoulders as a test, grimacing slightly at its weight.

Nanny had agreed to store whatever wouldn’t fit into her Faerun-standard pack so she packed her remaining things into a large basket with the intention of sending them by messenger. Once finished, she looked around the room, noting how empty and sterile it now seemed. She had nothing left to do and there was still no sign of Haer’Dalis. Bored, she lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about going home until she drifted off to sleep. She was awakened by the sound of footsteps coming down the hall followed by Haer’Dalis’s entrance into the room.

“Muggsy has been dealt with and I see you found the pack Tristan sent over,” he said, giving her a pleased smile.

She got off the bed and stretched. “Yep, I’m ready to go. I admit though that as much as I’m willing to travel with you, I also can’t wait to go home.” Giving him a hopeful look she added, “I know we haven’t had a chance to talk about it but I’d really like to go after we finish with whatever Tristan plans to do in Trademeet. Would you object?”

“I’m not averse to seeing your world so if it’s what you wish, then we’ll go.”

“I do and I suspect you’ll enjoy it. I can’t wait to introduce you to television…and social networking. Now there’s chaos!” She frowned abruptly, her look becoming rueful, “Nanny and Nalia aren’t too happy about my leaving that’s for sure. I am going to miss them but I do want to see my parents again.”

He put a hand under her chin, tilting her face towards his. “’Tis only temporary, my Kestrel.” He winked at her. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about traveling the planes with me? I’m quite sure both Nalia and Mistress Ducey did their best to persuade you otherwise. And changing one’s mind ‘tis a female’s prerogative – or so I understand.”

“Of course I haven’t!” She stuck her tongue out at him, grinning return. “Unless of course you’ve changed your mind about wanting my company?” Her smile turned mischievous as she added, “After all, I’m sure my presence will hamper you from making the acquaintance of the many beautiful women who would otherwise fall at your feet.”

Amused, he stepped back, striking a pose with his right hand over his heart, “Ah my Kestrel, whatever have I done to make you think so ill of me? ‘Tis but one woman alive who occupies my mind and to such an extent that I would fain not sleep given that the reality of her presence is a hundred times better than any dream.”

She laughed admiringly, “My, that’s a well practiced line. How many times have you said it in your lifetime I wonder? You really are quite good!”

“Yes, I know,” he replied modestly, his eyes gleaming with amusement. She shook her head admonishingly but could not quite suppress the chuckle that rose to her lips. He grinned wickedly at her in return but as her laughter died he possessed himself of both her hands, raising them to his lips and looking at her so earnestly that it took her breath away. “Truth be told, my thoughts are only for you, my love.”

In spite of the cynical little voice in her head whispering that this was probably not the first time he’d said such things to someone, she couldn’t help but be pleased. “Oh my God, Haery. That was really beautiful.” She bit her lip and then giggled, unable to resist the urge to continue teasing him, “Do you say things like that to all the girls?”

“Yes,” he answered somewhat ruefully. “But this time, I believe I actually mean it.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
It was barely light when Jen awoke the next morning. She blinked, turning instinctively towards Haer’Dalis’s side of the bed only to realize he wasn’t there. A slight rustling sound from across the room soon gave away his location and she rolled over to see that he was standing near the window looking out at the garden.   
She sat up and got out of bed. “You’re up early,” she remarked. “I suppose that means we need to get ready.”

He nodded. “’Twill be time to meet Tristan soon.”

She began to dress in the hiking clothes she’d been wearing the day first entered Faerun. “These,” she announced, quickly zipping up her pants and pulling on her shirt, “are proper hiking clothes. Notice the pants – lightweight, quick-drying nylon, sun and water resistant, zip-off legs. Not to mention the VapourWick t-shirt, Thorlo socks and hiking boots. I honestly don’t know how you guys manage to travel in armor and heavy clothes, not to mention the packs…. I definitely want to bring my own gear back with us.”

He came over to examine the garments, grinning at her enthusiastic salesmanship. He fingered the fabric of her shirt and pants, his expression becoming skeptical. “’Tis doubtful such garments will last long,” he said. “And while they may have magical qualities against rain, they are unlikely to protect you from attack.”

“Not everything has to be about battle. And this stuff actually lasts a long time. It’s comfortable too. I’ll bet you’d like it well enough if I could replace that base layer you wear under your armor with one that’s lighter and more comfortable, not to mention protect against heat or cold.”

“I’d consider it,” he admitted. “Now my love, if you’re ready, let’s be off.” He picked up his pack and waited as she swung hers up, grunting slightly as it settled on her shoulders.   
“Lord, this thing is heavy.” I don’t know how you guys manage to carry so much. And as I remember, Anomen’s and Keldorn’s packs are much larger than yours. How do they do it?”  
“They use Bags of Holding,” he replied. “I had thought to get you one but none were available. If we find one in Trademeet we’ll purchase it for it will lighten the load considerably.”

She nodded. “Well, until then, I’ll manage somehow.” She adjusted her pack one last time and then looked at Haer’Dalis, “I’m ready.”

“Then let’s go, my Kestrel. This Sparrow is ready to fly.” _Are we really having this conversation again?_ “Look,” she said, “I really appreciate your concern but I want to be with Haery. Anyway, I’m not leaving immediately. I’m going to Trademeet with you Nalia.” Turning to Nanny she added, “And I can never thank you enough for taking me in. I will miss living with you but I’m not gone forever. I do want to come back and visit.”  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
There was no sign of Haer’Dalis at the Iron Rose but Jen found that he – or someone – had left a large and rather bulky pack in her room. She examined it carefully. It was made of a heavy canvas-like material with stout leather bindings and straps and she was willing to bet that it weighed at least 10 pounds even without the additional weight of her belongings. _When I get home I am going to make sure I bring back my own pack and gear. And get some for Haery too. It’s crazy to carry this much weight if you don’t have to!_

Sitting down on the bed, she looked around the room, trying to figure out where to start.  
Many of her clothes seemed to be on the floor although she honestly didn’t remember tossing them aside so carelessly. Sighing, she got up and began to gathering her clothes and possessions, tossing them onto the bed.

Opening the backpack she saw it already contained an assortment of food and basic utensils. She also noticed that in lieu of a sleeping bag and hydration bladder, the pack had a thick blanket roll and large canteen tied beneath its main pouch. Her daypack lay nearby and she pulled it towards her, emptying it of such essentials as her flashlight, storm-proof matches, first aid kit and other necessities, stowing them carefully in the larger pack along with her clothes. She briefly considered abandoning the canteen in favor of her Camelbak’s hydration bladder but eventually decided against it. _No protection in the big pack. All I need is to have it break and get everything wet._ Once all her gear was stowed, she hefted the large pack onto her shoulders as a test, grimacing slightly at its weight.

Nanny had agreed to store whatever wouldn’t fit into her Faerun-standard pack so she packed her remaining things into a large basket with the intention of sending them by messenger. Once finished, she looked around the room, noting how empty and sterile it now seemed. She had nothing left to do and there was still no sign of Haer’Dalis. Bored, she lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about going home until she drifted off to sleep. She was awakened by the sound of footsteps coming down the hall followed by Haer’Dalis’s entrance into the room.

“Muggsy has been dealt with and I see you found the pack Tristan sent over,” he said, giving her a pleased smile.

She got off the bed and stretched. “Yep, I’m ready to go. I admit though that as much as I’m willing to travel with you, I also can’t wait to go home.” Giving him a hopeful look she added, “I know we haven’t had a chance to talk about it but I’d really like to go after we finish with whatever Tristan plans to do in Trademeet. Would you object?”

“I’m not averse to seeing your world so if it’s what you wish, then we’ll go.”

“I do and I suspect you’ll enjoy it. I can’t wait to introduce you to television…and social networking. Now there’s chaos!” She frowned abruptly, her look becoming rueful, “Nanny and Nalia aren’t too happy about my leaving that’s for sure. I am going to miss them but I do want to see my parents again.”

He put a hand under her chin, tilting her face towards his. “’Tis only temporary, my Kestrel.” He winked at her. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about traveling the planes with me? I’m quite sure both Nalia and Mistress Ducey did their best to persuade you otherwise. And changing one’s mind ‘tis a female’s prerogative – or so I understand.”

“Of course I haven’t!” She stuck her tongue out at him, grinning return. “Unless of course you’ve changed your mind about wanting my company?” Her smile turned mischievous as she added, “After all, I’m sure my presence will hamper you from making the acquaintance of the _many_ beautiful women who would otherwise fall at your feet.”

He stepped back, striking a pose with his right hand over his heart, “Ah my Kestrel, whatever have I done to make you think so ill of me? ‘Tis but one woman alive who occupies my mind and to such an extent that I would fain not sleep given that the reality of her presence is a hundred times better than any dream.”

She laughed admiringly, “My, that’s a well practiced line. How many times have you said it in your lifetime I wonder? You really are quite good!”

“Yes, I know,” he replied modestly, his eyes gleaming with amusement. She shook her head admonishingly but could not quite suppress the chuckle that rose to her lips. He grinned wickedly at her in return but as her laughter died he possessed himself of both her hands, raising them to his lips and looking at her so earnestly that it took her breath away. “Truth be told, my thoughts are only for you, my love.”

In spite of the cynical little voice in her head whispering that this was probably not the first time he’d said such things to someone, she couldn’t help but be pleased. “Oh my God, Haery. That was really beautiful.” She bit her lip and then giggled, unable to resist the urge to continue teasing him, “Do you say things like that to all the girls?”

“Yes,” he answered somewhat ruefully. “But this time, I believe I actually mean it.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
It was barely light when Jen awoke the next morning. She blinked, turning instinctively towards Haer’Dalis’s side of the bed only to realize he wasn’t there. A slight rustling sound from across the room soon gave away his location and she rolled over to see that he was standing near the window looking out at the garden.  
She sat up and got out of bed. “You’re up early,” she remarked. “I suppose that means we need to get ready.”

He nodded. “’Twill be time to meet Tristan soon.”

She began to dress in the hiking clothes she’d been wearing the day first entered Faerun. “These,” she announced, quickly zipping up her pants and pulling on her shirt, “are proper hiking clothes. Notice the pants – lightweight, quick-drying nylon, sun and water resistant, zip-off legs. Not to mention the VapourWick t-shirt, wool socks and hiking boots. I honestly don’t know how you guys manage to travel in armor and heavy clothes, not to mention the packs…. I definitely want to bring my own gear back with us.”

He came over to examine the garments, grinning at her enthusiastic salesmanship. He fingered the fabric of her shirt and pants, his expression becoming skeptical. “’Tis doubtful such garments will last long,” he said. “And while they may have magical qualities against rain, they are unlikely to protect you from attack.”

“Not everything has to be about battle. And this stuff actually lasts a long time. It’s comfortable too. I’ll bet you’d like it well enough if I could replace that base layer you wear under your armor with one that’s lighter and more comfortable, not to mention protect against heat or cold.”

“I’d consider it,” he admitted. “Now my love, if you’re ready, let’s be off.” He picked up his pack and waited as she swung hers up, grunting slightly as it settled on her shoulders.  
“Lord, this thing is heavy.” I don’t know how you guys manage to carry so much. And as I remember, Anomen’s and Keldorn’s packs are much larger than yours. How do they do it?”  
“They use Bags of Holding,” he replied. “I had thought to get you one but none were available. If we find one in Trademeet we’ll purchase it for it will lighten the load considerably.”

She nodded. “Well, until then, I’ll manage somehow.” She adjusted her pack one last time and then looked at Haer’Dalis, “I’m ready.”

“Then let’s go, my Kestrel. This Sparrow is ready to fly.”


	43. Trademeet

Trademeet was not quite what Jen expected. Given the town’s name and its location at the intersection of several well traveled roads she’d pictured it as a large and bustling city much like Athkatla. Instead it had turned out to be a small market town serving as a pass-through for travelers going to other – and probably far more exciting – destinations.

They’d arrived earlier that morning, making their way through the small sea of tents pitched outside the city gates only to be stopped and thoroughly questioned regarding their presence and intensions by a tired and anxious looking guard. It had taken persuasion of both the oral and monetary varieties before he’d agreed to allow them in, but he had eventually done so, suggesting that if work was what they sought, it might be found by talking with the town’s Mayor, Logan Coprith. Their first order of business however once admitted to the city had been to locate an inn for although they could have camped outside the gates Tristan felt it imperative to their business prospects to be found inside the city’s walls.

At present Jen was soaking in the public bath of the inn Tristan had chosen. Her body ached after ten extremely active and somewhat dangerous days on the road and since she was the only party member not tasked with an assignment, she’d decided to take advantage of it, preferring to look at the lack of responsibility as simple good fortune rather than as an indication of her lack of value to the party, or at least to Tristan. Although the inn was busy, her experience of all things Faerunian - at least to this point - led her to suspect she would be one of the few guests who would make an early afternoon bath a priority and so far she had been proven happily correct. _God it feels good to be off my feet!_

It normally took time to work up to a long hiking trip, particularly one that included carrying a 50 lb pack. In the past, she’d readied herself for such adventures by taking a number of shorter conditioning trips prior to the main event but this time she’d had no such preparation. Still she had managed to keep up with the party – largely thanks to the slowness with which a group of heavily armed and burdened beings tended to move but she’d paid for her tenacity with sore muscles and exhaustion. And she hadn’t had much time to rest even after the company halted and set up camp for at Haer’Dalis’s insistence she’d ended the day with training at both short bow and dagger.

“Do I _really_ need to do this while we’re traveling? I can barely move after we’ve walked all day,” she’d grumbled at him after a particularly trying exercise in personal combat in which her feet had simply refused to follow her brain’s commands.

“No time like the present,” he’d replied. “Danger won’t wait until you’re ready for it, my love. I’ll not always be available to rescue you so ‘tis best you be prepared.”

The bow had been the easiest, primarily because it was familiar although she was a long ways from claiming expertise. Under Nalia’s tutelage she’d found herself quickly regaining her summer camp archery skills although the idea of shooting at a person rather than a target was one she’d tried not to dwell upon. Defending herself with a dagger had also been a challenge, however Haer’Dalis had been patient, likening the precise movements of hand to hand combat to a dance – an analogy which made sense and helped her learn even if it didn’t make her less squeamish. Keldorn had joined their sessions several times, offering encouragement and occasional coaching. And as the week had progressed she found herself adjusting to the daily trek which left her with far more energy to devote to the evening exercise.

 _Hopefully Haery will give me a break today. Still, I’ll bet he insists on starting up again tomorrow. After all, he was right and the training did turn out be useful._

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“We’re getting close to Tradesmeet,” Tristan announced as the party cleared yet another copse of trees. The forest had been steadily thinning, going from a heavy canopy of conifers and broad leaf trees to occasional groupings of pine and oak. They had encountered few travelers on the road over the past several days; unusual for a road that was generally well traveled. That morning the forest had seemed particularly silent with only the occasional sound of a hawk’s cry or the rustling of wind through the trees breaking the stillness, so the sudden sound of twigs snapping and the rustling sounds of something moving through the underbrush brought them to a halt.

The sounds continued intermittently from somewhere behind them. They listened carefully for a few moments. Finally Tristan said softly, “Don’t think that’s an animal making the noise. Too much noise for one thing and most of the animals found out here travel alone. Wolves travel in packs but they wouldn’t make as much noise cutting through the underbrush. What do you think Keldorn?”

He nodded. “The roads are plagued with bandits and mercenaries these days. Could be a group of them preying on unsuspecting travelers,” the knight replied.

“They’ve been following us for some time,” Nalia added, leaving Jen’s side and coming up behind Tristan. “I’ve been hearing them off and on. I didn’t say anything because I just thought it some kind of animal.”

Tristan’s mouth thinned as she glanced at Nalia, but she didn’t issue the reprimand that seemed to be trembling on her lips, saying instead, “Let’s see who they are. Jaheira, would see if you can spot our trackers?”

The druid nodded, gliding forward and disappearing in the direction of the sounds, the company remaining on high alert until she reappeared. “Bandits. And they are following us. I got close enough to hear them talking. There are about twelve of them; seven men and five women. Sounds like they plan to take us when the road leaves the forest. Apparently that’s their mode of operation - attack, destroy and slink back into the trees to hide.”

Tristan nodded thoughtfully, “We’ll keep moving and look for a defensible spot and we’ll stay near the trees so that when they attack we aren’t entirely in the open. Be on your guard.” They continued down the rutted track, Jen’s stomach tightening at the realization that she was about to put her training to use.

After a few minutes Tristan motioned for Haer’ Dalis to come forward and he did so, giving Jen a brief warning glance that told her stay back. She obeyed his silent signal, slowing to walk beside Nalia, her eyes darting rapidly from side to side and then back to the uneven road beneath her feet. _This would not be a good time to trip, she thought grimly._

As they exited the last remnants of forest the bandits made their presence known just as expected, bursting out of the trees behind them with loud shouts. Two bowmen ran ahead to block the path as the others closed in from behind. Tristan and the knights moved together, forming a defensive block as Haer’Dalis and Jaheira split off in pursuit of the archers.

Left to fend for themselves, Nalia and Jen dodged out of the path of on-coming bandits, sprinting for the trees they’d just left behind. Taking cover, they dropped their packs. Nalia began to chant silently, red bolts shooting from her fingertips as Jen moved automatically into a defensive posture, her mind and body intent upon survival as she grabbed her bow. Aiming carefully, she began sending arrows towards the men attacking Tristan. _Dear God, please don’t let me hit one of us._

A snapping sound alerted her to yet another group of bandits – this one creeping up from behind. She whirled, slinging her bow over her shoulder and fumbled clumsily for her dagger. Jen raised the blade as one of the bandits – an older woman with cracked and broken front teeth - came at her grinning cheerfully. They came together with a crash, Jen parrying the blow. As the woman raised her sword again, Jen staggered back, ducking behind the closest tree, grinning with relief as it missed her. The bandit’s sword bit deeply into wood, the bandit swearing as she struggled to free it. Jen didn’t wait for more. _The best offense is a good defense,_ she thought grimly, breaking into a run. She knew she should probably be bolder – or at least feel ashamed of herself for running – but all her instincts were focused on staying alive and there was simply no room for anything else. Behind her she heard the sound of a thud as if a body had hit the ground but didn’t look; a good thing, for another bandit – male this time – appeared in front of her. She jumped to the side, again dodging behind a tree as the man snarled and followed.

A large and rather knobby oak appeared in front of her, its gnarled lower branches within reach. A tomboy in childhood, she had climbed many trees and now hoped that her youthful arboreal skills would reassert themselves, as she threw herself upwards catching at the nearest branch. She quickly pulled herself up, climbing rapidly until she reached a fork some distance from the ground, feeling the tree shake as the bandit tried to follow. He was less successful in his attempt as evidenced by the loud thud which followed. Looking down she saw that he had fallen to the ground beneath her and as he struggled to rise, she reached for her bow. She felt none of her earlier reservations about shooting at living targets. Instinct tinged with a strong desire for self preservation guided her as she fired at the man, her arrow striking him in the chest. He screamed – a loud, harsh sound - as he fell backwards, hitting the ground.

No other attackers threatened her so she began to look around from her vantage point, suddenly realizing that her mad dash had taken her nearly halfway around the small clearing. She could see Nalia and Jaheira a short distance away, busily hacking at several bandits entangled in a mass of ropy green vines and beyond them Tristan, Anomen, Keldorn and Haer’Dalis battling the remainder of the bandit brigade. _I need to help. I am part of the company._ She felt safe in the tree; far safer than on the ground below. She slid out of the fork, her feet dangling until they found purchase on a broad branch below. She eased herself onto it, noting she had a clear view of the on-going combat. She shot arrows towards the vine-bound, her movements - plucking arrows out of her quiver, fitting them to the bow, drawing back and firing – were somewhat automatic. It felt as though she were looking herself from a distance, observing dispassionately that several of her arrows had hit their intended targets.

By the time she looked back towards Tristan, Haer’Dalis and the two knights, they overcome most of the bandits attacking them, but were still engaged in fighting a large bearlike man whose mace cut a circular swathe around him. His blows bounced off the shields carried by Tristan and the knights but, Jen realized with a thrill of horror, Haer’Dalis had no such protection. Beside him was a smaller man whose nimble movements and flexibility reminded her of a large and rather dangerous bee darting in to stab and sting his prey. Her heart in her throat, Jen watched as Haer’Dalis danced away from the mace-wielder and began an offensive spin, his attack disabling and finally bringing down the smaller man. She leaned back against the trunk of her tree and then straightened, joining in the assault, a feeling of relief racing through her as she watched the last bandit fall. She climbed down from the tree, landing on the ground with a jubilant thump. _I survived my first real battle! she thought in somewhat dazed triumph._

She stepped forward, intending to rejoin the others but slipped. Recovering her balance, she looked down to see splotches of blood forming a short trail the bandit she’d shot earlier. She hadn’t noticed him moving, but apparently he had done so, crawling a short distance away before collapsing again, face down. Although good sense told her to leave him she went over and rolled the man onto his back. The arrow had broken off but she could see its stump sticking out of his chest and he groaned, spittle dribbling down his chin as he struggled for breath. His mouth moved soundlessly as his eyes met hers and he slowly raised a hand, drawing a finger across his throat. She shook her head in horror, her stomach heaving and bile rising in her throat.

“Puhheeeze.” The sound was a harsh, gargling whisper.

She nodded slowly. The man was clearly in pain and without the benefits of medical technology as she knew it, was unlikely to survive much longer. _I did this to him and I need to help him now._ Drawing a deep breath, she willed herself to be strong but her hands were shaking as she drew the man’s dagger from his belt and placed it at his throat.

“Jen, wait,” said a voice from behind. Startled, she shot a look over her shoulder to see Jaheira. The druid put a hand on her shoulder. “Go on. Haer’Dalis is looking for you. I’ll take care of this one,” she said gently. “One way or another.”

Jen looked at her numbly, “Can you do something for him?”

Jaheira bent over, examining the man for a moment and then straightened, shaking her head. “I can do nothing but give him peace.” She started to draw her own knife but Jen put a hand on her arm, stopping her.

“No. I need to do it or I’ll always be afraid. Just tell me what to do.”

“Are you sure child?”

“I don’t _want_ to if that’s what you’re asking but I need to do it myself. Just tell me how. I don’t want him to suffer,” Jen replied, her voice faint but steady.

Jaheria held out her hand, “Give me your blade so I can show you the angle.” Jen held it out and she took it, testing the blade before tilting the man’s head slightly. “If you hit the veins on either side of his windpipe he’ll go fast, otherwise…” She shook her head. “Press firmly. If you need me to help, I’m here.” She moved behind the man and knelt, holding his head in place against her knees with one hand and covering his eyes with the other. Looking down, she said softly, “May the warm winds lift your spirit and give you peace.”

Taking a deep breath, Jen held the knife across the man’s exposed throat and drew it firmly across. As the blade opened the artery, he gave a harsh, gargling scream as warm blood sprayed across her chest and arms, its rich, metallic smell making her stomach churn once again. Gagging, she got to her feet and managed to stumble a few feet away before becoming thoroughly and horribly sick.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

She came back to the present slowly, shivering slightly even though sitting in hot and steamy bath water. Although she’d re-lived the man’s death in her mind several times over the past two days and could rationally accept its necessity, it still bothered her. _I don’t know how you become used to this, I really don’t._

She sat quietly for several minutes trying to clear her mind until a pounding at the door brought the reminder that she was in a public place. The bath was intended to be used by all staying at the inn; she’d known it when she entered but she wasn’t used to bathing with strangers and thus had protected her privacy by barring the door behind her. _A bit selfish of me I guess._ “Just a minute!” she called aloud and scrambled out of the water, drying herself and dressing quickly. She exited the room a few minutes later, apologizing profusely as she hurried away.

Nalia spotted her as she headed up the stairs. “There you are!” Nalia exclaimed, “I’ve been looking all over for you. Everyone’s come back and Tristan wants to see what we’ve learned. I think she wants to plan.”

Jen shook her head. “Guess that rules me out. Tristan’s been pretty clear that she hasn’t much use for me. Besides, I’m pretty tired.”

“Aww…don’t let her get to you. She didn’t have much use for me at first either and I know she can be pretty intense at times but she’ll get over it, you’ll see.” She looked at Jen closely, “Have you been brooding over that bandit again? Jen, they attacked us. We defended ourselves. He got nothing he didn’t deserve or expect.”

“I suppose.” She sighed, blowing out her breath and gave Nalia a weak smile. “Oh well. I guess I don’t have to worry for much longer. Once we finish with whatever we’re doing here, I’m going home for awhile.” Jen saw Nalia’s face fall as she mentioned home and hugged her, as much for her own comfort as Nalia’s. “Things will work out.” She drew Nalia’s arm through hers, “Lead on then.” They headed downstairs to the tap room.

“…sounds upstairs even though the Lurraxol’s servant claimed they weren’t home and I swear I saw someone looking out through an upper window as we left,” they heard Tristan say as they joined the others around a large table.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Anomen replied. “Why would they send a messenger to the Radiant Heart in Athkatla asking for aid if they didn’t plan to take it once it appeared?”

“Political expediency,” Haer’Dalis broke in. “I spent the afternoon listening to local gossip. ‘Tis said that the Lurraxol’s are vying with another family for influence and seek a particular item that will establish their preeminence. Rumor has it that the item was once owned by Waukeen herself. Perhaps they believe asking for aid will be seen as weakness; as a sign that they are, in fact, _not_ superior. Sending a request for aid to Athkatla where they aren’t known allows them to obtain it without loss of face. Their denial may have been a way of maintaining the façade. The seed is planted however and they know we are here. If they truly want our help, they will come to us. Meanwhile it seems there are other tasks to undertake.”

Tristan looked thoughtful. “You have a point, Haer,” she replied. “And you’re right about other work. The trip won’t be a total loss. Remember that guard at the gate? The one who suggested we talk with Logan Coprith?”

He nodded, “Indeed. And you pursued it?”

“Yes. It seems that Trademeet-bound caravans as well as a few of its citizens have been attacked by wild animals. The townsfolk believe it’s the work of a Tethryan druid who showed up recently. However, the Mayor told me that he doesn’t think it’s the man’s fault. He thinks the problems are coming from somewhere else.”

“The druid’s innocent,” Jaheira added. “I was sure of it once he mentioned Faldorn’s presence.” She shook her head disgustedly, “You remember her don’t you, Tristan? The druid we met in Cloakwood and traveled with us for awhile?”

“I remember you arguing with her,” Tristan replied, grinning. She looked around at the others, “Jaheira and Faldorn enlivened our journey to Baldur’s Gate considerably with regular discussions of their philosophical differences. Faldorn is a member of the Shadow Druids and believes that nature must be preserved at all costs; that we – humans and other beings - are parasites that must be controlled and contained.”

“So, it would make sense that she would be a likely source of the animal attacks,” Keldorn said. “Do you have a plan?”

“I do,” she replied. “I’ve convinced Lord Logan to free the druid. The druid – Cernd – will be joining us. I understand the animals are attacking at night with some regularity, so we’ll spend part of the evening patrolling the town and dealing with any attacks. Then we’ll head north to the Druid’s Grove. So for now, I’d like you all to rest. It’s going to be a long night and I need all of you at your best.” Turning toward Jen, she added, “That includes you. I didn’t send you out earlier because I thought you probably needed to relax. I remember what it’s like to suddenly find myself on the road; it wasn’t easy. I imagine you’re probably still a bit tired.”

Jen smiled back, a feeling of relief washing over her at the thought that her exclusion hadn’t been _entirely_ due to perceived incompetence. “You’re right, although I think right now it’s more about our fight with the bandits than my feet if you know what I mean.”

“Indeed,” Keldorn said gravely, “the first few battles are often the hardest. Training does not really prepare us for its realities. You’ll get used to it after a time.”

“I hope so,” she replied.


	44. Lions and Tigers and Werewolves - O My!

Night fell, emptying Trademeet’s streets of all but a few brave – or perhaps incredibly unwise – souls. Cernd, the Tethryan druid had joined the party, walking at Tristan’s side as they made their way through town for what was now the third time, keeping their eyes and ears open for any signs of movement that would indicate the presence of predators.  So far, however it had been a very dull patrol.

Given the nature of their stroll through the streets, the group had been largely silent with conversation limited to direction from Tristan or the occasional muttered warning about rough footings or other small hazards.  As they once again passed Vyatri’s Pub, Jen heaved a sigh.  “Think Tristan will call this off anytime soon? We’ve seen nothing,” she whispered to Nalia.

“I hope so.  Although I’m rather glad we _haven’t_ run into anything. Especially the giant spiders, Cernd mentioned.  I _hate_ spiders.” She glanced towards their newest companion walking next to Tristan at the head of the party. “I know he was investigating the incursions but I have to wonder what would have happened if he’d run across anything really big and dangerous.”

Jen grinned, her eyes following her friend’s.  Cernd was a moderately tall, athletic man whose modest robes and minimal weaponry were in stark contrast to Tristan’s heavy armor.  “You’re right. He doesn’t look like he’s equipped to handle more than a housecat. He seems to be the only one not carrying something sharp and pointy…unless of course he’s hiding something beneath those robes.”   
  
“I know!” Nalia giggled softly. “Still, druids usually have other means of defense.”

The group continued its patrol, working their way towards the middle of town. Upon reaching the central plaza and its large and rather spectacular fountain, Tristan stopped, looking around.  “Still no sign of anything unusual.”  She turned to Cernd, “I thought a number of the attacks took place at night in town.”

“Not _in_ town precisely,” he replied.  “All have started near the gates although I understand there were times when animals broke through.  Several of the attacks _were_ at night as well as in early morning.  I suggest we check the northern gates near the graveyard and if we see nothing there, meet at dawn for another patrol.”

She nodded, glancing around at the others. “Agreed.”

 

 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Dawn found the party once again making the rounds of Trademeet.  After making one loop inside the walls, they left the city proper, threading their way through the tents clustered outside as they headed for the perimeter road.  The day was clear; blue skies, fluffy clouds and crisp air that contained just a hint of warmth. “Beautiful day for a walk and far too lovely a morning for violent confrontation,” Jen said to Haer’Dalis and Nalia.

Her remark was overheard by Cernd who moved forward to join them.  “Nature is not bound by aesthetics. Aggression is but one of many possible changes that may occur regardless of how lovely the environment. Then again, perhaps you see nature’s chaos and confusion as an enemy when it is but in fact a natural consequence of the interaction between matter and energy.” 

She looked at him in surprise, eyebrows raised.    _He sounds rather like Haery._

Beside her, Haer’Dalis nodded his agreement.  “Truly chaos is nothing to fear.  All things change; structures are built, mountains form, beings are born.  All scrabble to survive in their own way and ultimately fail. Some achieve glorious annihilation while others vanish without consequence. But all things do end, mourned but for a brief moment before fading from memory[1].”

“Yes, but where you see collapse and endings, I see rebirth and balance.  A druid recognizes chaos and confusion as reason for celebration and growth; death and destruction are but the roots of creation and survival,” Cernd replied.

Jen laughed. “Ok…well, while you two debate the finer differences of your personal philosophies, I’ll just be over here enjoying the fresh air and flowers.”

They continued on, the paved road surrounding the city soon gave way to dirt with occasional narrow tracks heading off into the distance through fields of scrubby plants and dry grass.  A few of the tracks were marked with short wooden posts bearing an arrow and the name of a potential destination. Cernd directed them towards one of the marked trails and as they turned onto it, a loud buzzing noise followed by a shot of iridescent blue whizzed past Jen’s face.  She jumped back, making a shooing motion with her hand.  The bug – a large winged sort, landed a short distance away. She stared at it a moment, “God, what is that?  A pterodactyl?”

Haer’Dalis grinned but Nalia gave her a puzzled look, “Tear-roh- _dack_ -til? What do you mean?  It’s _just_ a flyer.”

“Pterodactyl,” Jen replied firmly, then relented. “A pterodactyl is a type of really big winged lizard that used to live on Earth eons ago. But I’m just teasing.  It’s something my friend Beth and I used to say whenever a really big bug would go flying past.”

Nalia’s face relaxed into a smile. “Oh.”

They continued forward but had not gone far when a low growl alerted them that they were not alone.  Jen grabbed her bow as a pack of wolves came bursting out of the bushes followed by a trio of large cats. _Lions and tigers?_ she thought in stunned amazement. The party sprang into action and spread out.  Haer’Dalis moved forward, engaging the nearest wolf.  After a quick look around, Jen began to move away, seeking a spot on the perimeter. As she began firing arrows, she noticed Cernd in the midst of the melee, his movements fluidly graceful as his staff cracked across the backs and heads of the wolves attacking him. 

One of her arrows glanced off the heavy pelt of one of the attackers and the wolf turned, racing towards her.  Jen drew her dagger as it leapt towards her then stumbled back, arm raised for protection as its front paws struck her shoulder, unbalancing her. The wolf bit down, its teeth leaving deep scrapes across her arm and she kicked out, her foot thudding off its chest.  As she darted away, the wolf gathered itself, flying towards her once again. She turned and stabbed at it, then her foot turned beneath her and she felt herself falling. The animal straddled her, jaws snapping and the air around her solidified and hardened as her cloak’s protective magic came to life as she struggled to keep one arm between her throat and the wolf’s jaws. 

Then the wolf was suddenly gone, knocked aside by a much larger creature, also furred but on two legs.  Jen’s heart – already beating rapidly, came into her throat, but the beast ignored her, bounding away as Haer’Dalis came up, his blades whirling.  Next to her the wolf staggered to its feet and he quickly dispatched it, and then put out a hand, helping her to her feet. “Are you alright my love?”

Her arm stung, blood welling up where it had been punctured but other than that she was unharmed.  “Yeah,” she said reaching into one of the pockets of her hiking pants for a bandage. “I’ll live.”  He nodded and headed back into the fray.  She hurried in the opposite direction, sliding behind a large bush and quickly bandaging her arm before rejoining the skirmish.  She fell into a rhythm, her shots becoming automatic and as she looked around she noticed the creature – _a werewolf_ –  embroiled in the battle but clearly _helping_ the party rather than attacking them. Its presence puzzled her but she didn’t waste time trying to figure it out, but went on shooting.  When the last animal fell she came out of cover, moving rapidly to rejoin the party and then stopped in surprise for she saw the werewolf standing between Anomen and Keldorn, both of whom seemed to be ignoring it. As she watched, the air began to shimmer, the werewolf’s form twisting as it became a recognizable figure.  _Cernd?_  While her association with Jaheira had left her dimly aware that druids had an array of powers, it had never occurred to her that shapeshifting might be one of them.  Giving Jaheira a speculative look, she wondered whether she too could change shape and if so, into what kind of creature.

“Everybody alright?” she heard Tristan asking as she approached. She, Anomen and Keldorn seemed fine, protected by the heavy armor they wore but most of the others sported bites, scratches and scrapes although nothing that needed immediate healing.

They waited a few moments, but when no more animals appeared, Tristan finally motioned them forward.  “Let’s finish patrolling the perimeter and go back to the inn, shall we?”

   
  


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

 _Druid’s Grove_.  Cernd’s evidence had suggested the place as the most likely source of Trademeet’s animal attacks, yet to Jen the name conjured up visions of a forest retreat carpeted with ferns, yarrow and baneberry.  They’d left Trademeet the day before, their path initially taking them through miles of meadow and scrub forest. This morning however, they had begun to climb, leaving the open spaces behind. The air was growing cooler and increasingly damp; a consequence of both the higher elevation and the increasingly heavy forest canopy. A slight breeze sprang up, blowing gently on Jen’s sweaty face and neck.  She shivered, pulling the collar of her jacket more closely about her throat as she continued to follow Haer’Dalis up the steep, winding trail.  Behind her she could hear Nalia’s labored breathing.

They finally reached the hilltop. Long blades of sunlight cut through the leafy roof above, warming patches of ground and illuminating a fork in the path. Jen saw Tristan stop, motioning to Cernd and Jaheria. They consulted briefly, snatches of conversation floating back towards the others.

“…path marked,” Cernd’s tone was confident, “…should be nearby….”

The two druids moved away, each disappearing down one of the trail’s forks.  Several minutes later they returned, one after the other.

“The grove is this way,” Cernd said, pointing towards the trail he’d just left. 

“You’re sure?” Tristan asked.  
  
“Yes,” he replied, “I found trail markers.”

The first marker, a small stack of stones topped by one bearing a single spiral was a short distance up the trail, hidden in the ferns and tall grass.  As they moved forward, more markers began to appear, at first some distance apart but then more frequently until they reached a set of standing stones. 

A small clearing lay just past the stones.  Three men grouped about a small fire looked up warily as they entered. 

“Halt!”  One of the men rose, coming towards them. “This grove is protected by the Druids of Tethyr.  No one may enter without our leave.”

Cernd stepped forward, “Pauden, they are with me.” 

“Cernd!” the man exclaimed. “What brings you here?”  He stepped forward eagerly, hand outstretched and the two men clasped arms before Pauden turned, gesturing to the two men sitting by the fire  “Girion. Imlach.” Cernd clasped arms with each of them before introducing Tristan’s party and then turned back to Pauden.  “The Circle of Tall Trees heard rumors of a disturbance in the grove – druids disappearing, animals attacking travelers and towns. I was sent to investigate.”

Pauden shook his head, shifting his feet nervously, “Best that you not disturb things here my friend. Shadow Druids have taken the grove.”

“They are poisoning the land, draining it of its strength,” Cernd replied. “Look at the trees and plants, sniff the air; everything is dying and rotting.  Which of course makes sense for it would take a great deal of power to maintain the attacks on Trademeet.  They _must_ be stopped, for the sake of the Grove as much as to protect the town.”

“Shadow Druids!” Jaheira broke in.  “I’ve run into them before in the Cloakwood Forest.  They’re a small sect but incredibly…unbalanced in their views regarding the coexistence of beings within nature.”

Tristan snorted. “That’s a kind way of putting it.”  Glancing around she said, “Jaheira and I met a Shadow Druid named Faldorn while traveling to Baldur’s Gate. She was rather… dismissive of anyone who didn’t agree with her views of man’s place in nature.”

“Faldorn!” Pauden exclaimed, “then you know the Grand Druid?” 

Cernd gave him a puzzled look, “Alcarin was Grand Druid here last I knew.  What happened?”

“Faldorn and her followers came to the grove not two months ago and used the Ritual to expel him.  Imlach, Girion and I….none of us is strong enough to challenge her.  But perhaps one of you could.”

Jaheira looked at Cernd.  “If it’s truly Faldorn then she must be challenged though it means our death or hers. An uncomfortable solution perhaps but it will likely be the only way.  It is doubtful that the last few months have changed her, so attempts to reason with her will serve as much purpose as trying to stop a fast-moving stream with a twig.”

Tristan nodded, “Then our course seems clear.” Looking around at the others she added, “Or do any of you disagree?”  
  
“Not at all,” Keldorn replied, “but we should move on; find the grove as quickly as possible.”

“I agree,” said Anomen. “I don’t think we should remain in this place for longer than it takes to sweep it clean of the foulness that besets it.”

“The ritual circle is at the center of the grove; it’s not far from here,” Pauden said helpfully. “He pointed towards a path leading to the northeast.  “We’ll remain here and stop anyone who might try to attack from behind.”

“Farewell then,” said Tristan and gestured to the others to follow as she left the clearing.

 

 

* * *

[1] Not an exact quote but the essence is drawn from one of Mark Twain’s writings.  


	45. Druid’s Circle

The party headed north following a meandering path edged by thickets of dense, untidy hedge and occasional clumps of trees. The air, which had been fresh and somewhat moist near the grove’s entrance, began to grow dry and dusty, leaving plants and trees clearly used to flourishing in cool dampness, looking withered and unhealthy. Soon, additional signs of blight appeared; large swathes of desiccated grass and bracken, flowering plants with dry, drooping leaves and faded blossoms and increasing mounds of fallen leaves.

They moved slowly down the trail, stopping occasionally to allow Cernd and Jaheira to examine the vegetation. After the fourth such stop, Jen overheard Jaheira say, “You are right. There are no signs of actual disease…no molds or insects. The plants and trees look almost as if they’ve been drained.”

Cernd nodded his expression grave. “Yes. And that would suggest use of druidic powers, for nothing could do this.”

“I find it difficult to understand how Faldorn could be willing to unleash such harm at nature’s expense,” she replied. She shook her head, her lips thinning in disapproval. “Still, I know her to be unwavering in thought and deed; balance is anathema to her, the primacy of nature is her goal and if she believes that the only way to achieve her ambition is through the use of nature’s own life-force, she may accept it as the price she must pay.”

The two druids moved on, the others following in somber silence. After a short while Jen noticed the usual woodland noises – the rustle and twitter of birds, the trickle of water and the chirp of insects – which marked their passage only a short time ago, had suddenly disappeared leaving only the crunch of their footsteps on the dry leaves for company. The lack of sound was distinctly odd and somewhat unnerving. As the realization became conscious thought, the back of her neck began to prickle apprehensively. _If all the plants and animals are being affected by whatever is going on, won’t we eventually be as well?_

As they came around a bend, the path narrowed suddenly, disappearing behind a large boulder. The company halted. “Good place for a trap,” Keldorn said, frowning. “We haven’t seen anyone yet; perhaps they’ve planned an ambush.”

Anomen nodded, “It does seem to suggest the druids are either sufficiently few in numbers thus requiring such a strategy or they are gathered elsewhere in the grove waiting to overwhelm us. If we must encounter them, I’d rather do it sooner than later, what say you My Lady?” He glanced towards Tristan.

She nodded, “I agree.”

“Let Jaheira and I go on ahead,” Cernd said. He walked a few steps forward, peering around the edge of the boulder. “If the Shadow Druids have used the path’s narrowing as the place for a trap, they may mistake us for more of their fellows. Even a little delay in their attack would be advantageous.”

The group fell into place a short distance behind the two druids following as the path wound around the boulder, through a thicket of trees and emptied into a small clearing. Jen looked around, her skin crawling with the uncomfortable sensation of being watched but saw nothing. Her feeling continued to grow and soon it was clear that others were feeling it as well for one after the other began casting frequent glances about, hands hovering over weapons. _I should be prepared too._ She pressed her lips together grimly as she reached for her bow, holding an arrow loosely notched against the bowstring as she continued walking across the open space.

Buildings and an arched stone bridge could be seen at the far side of the clearing. There were no signs of life although Jen knew that meant nothing. As they reached the bridge, Tristan, Anomen and Keldorn moved ahead, retaking the lead. A second bridge lay just beyond the first, arching up and over hollows dotted with rocks, its undersides screened by bushes. Tristan strode a few paces up the incline and then stopped, motioning them to move closer to the railings as she peered into the areas below. “I don’t like this,” Anomen muttered, shifting his flail in his hand as he too tried to see into the bushes below.

“I don’t either,” Tristan admitted. She grimaced. “Anything could be hiding down there. Unfortunately we won’t know anything until we get closer.”

They continued to move forward as silently as they could, seeing and hearing nothing but as they reached the bridge’s apex, a sudden rustling from below signaled that their vigilance was indeed warranted. The sound was followed a minute later by a loud rumble and a short, sharp vibration that left them staggering and clutching at the railings and each other, their armor and equipment banging noisily.

“Everyone alright?” Tristan asked, as the shaking stopped and she regained her balance. “What was that?” She bent over the rail, staring again at the bushes beneath. Jaheira and Cernd too looked down and then at each other.

“I don’t know,” Jaheira admitted, “but I don’t like it. We should proceed with caution.” Tristan nodded, finally motioning them forward again. The party moved instinctively into formation; the three warriors a short distance ahead followed by Haer’Dalis and the two druids with Jen and Nalia at the rear.

As the front of the party neared the end of the bridge an undulating wave of vegetation suddenly rose up, tendrils whipping out to catch at Tristan and the knights’ heavy armor and wrap about their legs. Shouting and swearing in confusion, they struggled against the tide of green twisting about them and pulling them down, heavy armor crashing and clanging against the dirt and stones.

“Tristan!” Jaheira shouted. She raced forward, her hands and lips moving, tiny points of white light shooting out of her fingertips as she cast Dispel.

“What was that?” Nalia hissed, from behind Jen. “Some kind of Entangle spell? I’ve never seen one quite like that!” Whatever else she might have said was cut off as a loud rumbling began and the bridge shook once again, as if moved by an earthquake. The shaking stopped abruptly as a monster emerged from beneath the bridge, crushing all in its path. Jen’s heart leapt into her throat as the creature moved towards them. It was massive. Its humanoid shape appeared to be made of concrete and armored with shards of rock which stuck out at all angles. The creature moved forward slowly, rocky joints grinding together at each step and its arms swinging from side to side.

“Earth Elemental!” Haer’Dalis shouted. He ran forward, Cernd behind him as Tristan, Anomen and Keldorn attacked the behemoth. Soon more figures - flesh and blood this time – appeared to join the fray, staves and swords swinging.

 _Shadow Druids!_ At first Jen thought the best course of action would be to aid the others in taking down the elemental but neither her assault nor Nalia’s seemed to have much effect for arrows and spells bounced harmlessly off the monster’s flinty hide. _It’s like attacking a rock with toothpicks and steak knives,_ she thought in frustration. Only Tristan’s, Keldorn’s and Anomen’s heavier weapons seemed to make an impact.

Haer’Dalis seemed to come to a similar conclusion for he suddenly broke off, moving instead to attack the druids. Jen followed suit, aiming her arrows carefully into the crowd. _Let my aim be true and my arrows find foes not friends._ As the phrase echoed in her head, a part of her mind noted ruefully that although the feelings behind it were genuine, the phrase was just a tad dramatic. Still, it felt necessary; a superstitious offering to whatever gods might be listening. She fell into rhythm, watching for openings, taking aim, and releasing arrows. Where only a little earlier there had been silence, they were now engulfed in sound; the clash of weapons against armor and stone and the cries of the wounded and dying echoing off the bridge and surrounding structures. The din pounded deafeningly against Jen’s ears, numbing her senses.

Two of the druids below soon saw her, sending arrows of their own towards her spot on the bridge. She ducked behind the rail, allowing the arrows to fly over her head and bounce harmlessly behind her and as she rose to return fire, she caught a glimpse of Cernd and Jaheira at the edge of the fray. A second hail of arrows came her way and she ducked again but this time as she rose, she saw Cernd had assumed his werewolf form although Jaheira continued circling, a blue light flowing from her hands towards the embattled knights whenever one of them appeared to falter.

Jen felt rather than saw Nalia draw her own bow forward, apparently having run out of spells, to join her in slowly thinning the ranks of the Shadow Druids below. The battle seemed to go on forever for although the druids slowly fell one by one, the elemental seemed unaffected, in part due to what appeared to be incredible recuperative powers. More than once Jen saw it totter a few steps as if about to fall and then bring its fists together in front, hunching over them in a defensive stance that seemed impenetrable. It continued to bash at its attackers who began falling back.

The bridge began to shake as the elemental stepped onto it, moving ponderously up the incline and closer to Jen and Nalia. Anomen hurried towards them his flail crashing down as he reached the elemental. It turned to retaliate, its arm coming forward in a massive blow as Jaheira raced up, hands and lips moving. Another wave of sticky vines blossomed on the roadway, swarming up and over the creature’s legs and body, bringing it to a halt. More vines appeared as Cernd too began to chant, racing forward towards those Jaheira had created to combine with them before weaving and twisting about the elemental. The monster freed a leg but as it attempted to move, the vines caught at its free foot unbalancing it completely. The end came quickly as it staggered, crashing against and through the protective rail. It hit the ground with a loud rumbling crash and lay still. Keldorn glanced down at it, grunting tiredly as he turned, followed by Tristan and Anomen and made his way down to where the creature lay to ensure it would no longer rise.

As the party regrouped at the foot of the bridge, Jen saw Tristan leaning on her sword. She straightened at their approach, a slight smile spreading across her lips. “Glad that’s over. I don’t think I could have gone on much longer.” Her gaze turned towards Jaheira and Cernd as she unconsciously echoed Nalia's earlier remark, “So tell me. What exactly happened there? I’m no Druid and I've not much experience with magic buta that seemed...well, _odd._ ”

“I-I don’t quite know,” Jaheira admitted. The druid looked tired and shaken as she wiped at her sweaty face with the back of her arm. “But perhaps whatever Faldorn has done to warp this sacred place, has also wrought changes to their spells and ours.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

They reached to the druids’ compound a short time later. Two boulders marked the entrance to a circular garden of raked gravel and stone. The building behind the garden was unremarkable; a low, single-storied structure with deeply recessed windows and a broad and heavy wooden door which creaked open as they approached to emit a man dressed in a simple robe much like Cernd’s and carrying a metal-tipped staff.

“Why do you come here?” he asked in a low growl, an undercurrent of threat clear in both voice and manner.

Tristan stepped forward, gesturing for Cernd to follow her. “Perhaps starting with introductions might ease the interrogation, “she replied. “You first. Who are you and what is your purpose here?”

He eyed her with dislike. “My name is Dalok. And since you are the visitor, it seems to me that you should start.” He crossed his arms, looking at them coldly as he waited.

A look of irritation, quickly smoothed away, crossed Tristan’s face. “Alright.” She gave the man her name and Cernd’s adding, “We came to talk with the Grand Druid about the animal attacks on Trademeet. We know their source lies somewhere within this grove.”

“You’re not one of the druids who resides here,” Cernd added quietly. “I know them. Where is Grand Druid Halrik?”

The man looked at Cernd. “This grove belongs to the Shadow Druids. Halrik is no longer Grand Druid for Faldorn – our Grand Druid - has claimed this place through ritual combat. We follow her vision; her plan.”

“The attacks _must_ stop.” Tristan said firmly.

“Trademeet is but reaping the reward it deserves. It is clear the townspeople and the merchants do not respect nature’s sovereignty. They destroy nature even as they benefit from her gifts. Nature must be protected; it requires their removal. The forest and the grove will be peaceful once they are gone. Faldorn has foreseen this.”

“So…” Tristan said slowly, “it sounds like we need to talk with Faldorn and since you haven’t offered us any alternatives, I’m guessing you’re not here to negotiate.” She sighed heavily, drawing her sword. “Some days it’s nothing but work, work, work.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

They entered the first building cautiously, listening for sounds of movement that would indicate the presence of others but found only a series of empty halls and rooms. Another large wooden door, similar to the one at the entrance, opened into a large clearing dotted with other structures including what appeared to be a open-air shrine at the far side. There they could see movement; figures hurrying back and forth between the temple’s entrance and interior.

“That’s where Faldorn is, I’m sure of it. Let us get this over with,” Jaheira said in a hard voice. Jen glanced towards her. The older woman’s face was flecked with splatters of blood and dirt and she looked tired but her body was straight and her steps firm and purposeful as she brushed past Tristan and headed towards the temple.

Two men appeared as they reached the brightly tiled walkway that led up to the door. Just as the others, they too wore soft robes although Jen was sure she could hear the clink of mail hidden beneath the clothes of at least one of the two men. Both carried staves and one had a short dagger strapped about his waist as well. “Halt and state your purpose,” the dagger-bearer said.

Jaheria’s eyes narrowed as she glared at him, “I have no patience for this nonsense. We are here to see Faldorn. Do not try to stop us. We will talk with her whether or not you would allow it.”

The man’s gaze moved from Jaheira’s angry face to the rest of the heavily armed company, surveying them thoughtfully for a moment before stepping aside, gesturing to the other druid to do so as well. “She is aware of your presence and awaits you inside.”

Just past the entrance lay a large room dominated by a stone chair of throne-like proportions. As they entered, a door at the back of the temple opened and a tall woman emerged. Jen saw that she was beautiful in a raw-boned and angular way; long dark blonde hair framing and softening her broad cheekbones and square chin. Her bearing reminded Jen of the large cats which had attacked them outside of Trademeet; graceful yet threatening.

Tristan and Cernd stepped forward to stand beside Jaheira as the woman approached and as she looked at them, recognition dawned. “Well, what have we here?” she asked haughtily. “Jaheira and Tristan?” Her eyes met Tristan’s as she shook her head scornfully. “I always knew Jaheira to be a fool but you Tristan, _you_ I thought wiser than to try and impede Nature’s claim to what is rightly hers.” Her gaze flicked towards Cernd, her tone contemptuous as she added, “And I see you have with you yet another of the Tethryan druids come to investigate recent happenings in the grove.” Her lips curved into a sneering smile, “You’re too late, you know. The ritual has been performed and I have bonded with the grove.”

“Faldorn? What’s happened to you?” Tristan asked. Her face and tone reflected genuine curiosity and concern. “The Faldorn _I_ remember; the Faldorn who traveled with us was dedicated and protective of nature. Yet the incidents at Trademeet as well as the condition of this grove all point to a lack of care; of nature’s destruction.”

“There are times in which force must be met with force; in which sacrifices must be made to achieve the greater good. You know this Tristan; this is why _you_ fight,” Faldorn replied calmly. She looked at them steadily one by one and her voice was firm and clear as she added, “Just as the panther’s life is sustained by the deer’s death, just as the raging river destroys all in its path yet leaves fertile soil behind, so too does the grove serve to nourish those who follow nature’s true path. So while I may mourn the passage of the plants and trees or the death of an animal, I know it is required if nature is to survive and regain her supremacy. The great mother sustains me and supports me in what I do. My followers know this as well, even if you do not!”

Jaheira listened to the exchange, her jaw clenching and unclenching. “You are an affront to all nature!” she burst out, her body and voice shaking. “You say the grove nourishes you and suggest its death is necessary to achieve a greater good but that is fallacy! That is not the way of a druid! You have long sought power and now you have found it. _I_ say you seek to disrupt nature, not for nature’s sake but for your own.” She stepped forward, eyes flashing as she suddenly raising her gloved hand, striking Faldorn’s cheek, “I challenge you to fight! To release this grove into the hands of one who will care for it!”

Faldorn stepped back, a hand flying to her reddening cheek, eyes glittering angrily. “How dare you suggest you know better than I what nature requires! You are the one who is no true druid, always seeking to find “balance.” Preaching “balance” is but a way of prevaricating when in fact nature requires our protection! You have no place in this grove and thus no right of challenge. I will fight only to end your sorry existence, not as part of a ritual. You do not deserve it.”

“Jaheira, wait,” Tristan began.

 _“No!_ I must do this. I’ve been waiting for something like this ever since we first met in Cloakwood!”

“Jaheira, this is not your fight,” Cernd interjected. “It is _my_ duty to reclaim the grove; this is why I was sent,” He looked at Faldorn, his voice calm but firm. “The rituals still govern this place and therefore I challenge you. It is my right as a Tethyran druid for my sect has long cared for this grove.” He stepped towards her, staff in hand.

Her face twisted into a scowl. “You Tethyrans are a pitiful lot. I’ve overthrown your Grand Druid. What makes you think you can best _me?_ ”

“Many spirits live in the grove; you may have bonded with its heart but I doubt all would have come to you. There are others who will come to my aid if I call them,” he replied. “But you have not answered my challenge. Are you afraid?”

She drew herself up, staring fiercely at him. “I revel in the combat of the rituals and I welcome the chance to return you to the earth! If you insist, then come to your death!” she spat and then turned, snarling at Jaheira, “And once he is dead, I will come back to take care of you for I am stronger than ever with the aid of this grove. The mother feeds me so I might fight for her!”

Jaheira moved in front of Cernd, placing her hand on his arm. “Please, let me kill her,” she begged, her face hot with fury. “She does not deserve the honor of ritual combat. Let me take care of this blight here and now.”

Her look was pleading, but he shook his head, gently pushing her aside. “No. This is the only way for I sense that she has bonded with the heart of the grove and if the rituals are not observed and she dies, the grove will cease as well.”

Jaheira stepped back her face mirroring her reluctance. “As much as I would like to be the one to end Faldorn’s ‘care’ of this place, you are right. Nature must be preserved; therefore I withdraw my challenge in favor of yours.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As they followed Faldorn out of the temple, several Shadow Druids appeared, falling into place behind them. They made their way back into the clearing, towards the sound of water, soon coming across a small stream. They crossed over and made their way towards the low stone walls of the structure that lay beyond. As they reached it, Jen saw it was a fighting ring. There was only one entrance; a heavy wooden door, barred and locked from the outside.

Faldorn raised her hand as they approached and two of the Shadow Druids raced forward, lifting the bars and allowing the door to swing open. She turned to look at Cernd, a mocking smile on her face. “Are you sure you want this? You know the ritual. Two may enter but only one may leave.”

He nodded silently. They entered the ring, vanishing briefly into a pair of small alcoves and when they returned Jen saw both were dressed in identical light robes and were armed only with their staves. The two druids waiting near the entrance spoke a few words to each before slamming the door shut and allowing the heavy bars to thump back into place, sealing Faldorn and Cernd in.

Those outside arranged themselves around the top of the wall peering down into the pit, watching as the two druids faced each other. Both raised their hands, leaning back slightly as if worshipping an unseen sun before assuming a more prayerful position, hands together in front of their chests, bowing slightly towards each other. From somewhere behind them a gong sounded and as the echoes died away, the two began circling warily, staves held at the ready.

They exchanged a few blows as if testing each other, then Jen saw Cernd’s hands move as he cast a spell.

“Ironskin,” Jaheira muttered, “He plans to test her defenses.” And indeed, Cernd went on the attack, striking at Faldorn with both staff and feet, his blows connecting with her body. She struck back, but he bobbed and wove, ducking away from most of her blows. Finally, Faldorn broke away, moving to the far side of the pit, raising her hands as she chanted loudly in a language that Jen did not understand.

Overhead, clouds began to gather, forming a dense roof above the pit and as the dull rumble of thunder sounded, Faldorn turned back towards Cernd, her fists pumping, calling down one lightening strike after the other. He staggered as the first one struck him, and then dodged away, raising his own hands skyward. The lightning bolts ceased as both druids stood still, the battle becoming a contest of wills rather than blows. Then just as suddenly as it had risen, the storm vanished and the sky cleared.

A tall being – much like the earth elemental they had fought earlier - appeared at Cernd’s side and joined the fray. Faldorn turned, casting an Entangle spell but it brushed the vines aside as it continued forward and struck at her, its blows raining down on her shoulders and body. She seemed to falter, stumbling and almost falling before recovering to dash to the far side of the pit where she raised again her hands. A green light appeared and as it gathered about her and brightened, she drew herself up, seeming to grow stronger and as Cernd’s calling vanished, her form shifted. A nymph appeared in her place its hands moving as it cast a spell and Cernd in his own turn, staggered back, clearly weakened.

“Heal yourself! If this is all she’s got it won’t be much longer!” Jen heard Jaheira cry out.

He seemed to hear her for his hands moved and a blue glow washed over him. He straightened and then his own form began to shift and waver, a werewolf springing towards the nymph, bearing her down under its weight.

The nymph disappeared, leaving Faldorn in its place. She struggled against him, blood welling up on her arms and face as his teeth and claws found purchase. Her feet kicked and her hands pummeled at him as they rolled on the ground together until she finally managed to slip out of his grasp, springing to her feet and backing away as she attempted another spell. But she wasn’t able to complete it for the werewolf sprang towards her again, this time his jaws closing over her throat. Faldorn shrieked, a harsh sound of raw fear cut off abruptly as her head fell back, dangling loosely, blood pouring across her chest. The werewolf stood still, her limp body still supported in his arms and then carefully lowered her to the ground, kneeling beside her watchfully.

“She’s dead!” Jaheira shouted triumphantly. “The ritual is complete!” And indeed it seemed so, for as they watched, Cernd rose, werewolf form fading and went to stand in the middle of the stone circle, his eyes closed and his arms raised in an attitude of worshipful triumph. And as they watched, light formed around him, green at first and then changing and shifting; a virtual rainbow of color swirling softly about him. He stood silently for several minutes as if communing with it before finally opening his eyes and looking up at the watchers above. “It is done,” he cried. “The grove is free!”


	46. Homeward Bound Take 2

Relief washed over Jen as the gates of Athkatla appeared in the distance. She was tired of being on the road and although she didn’t have any place to call her own within the city, it still felt like a homecoming. The thought startled her and she realized that her friendships – especially those with Nalia, Lila and Nanny - and her burgeoning relationship with Haer’Dalis had gone a long way in helping her feel connected to her new life. Things are starting to feel normal. 

_Normal._ The thought stopped her in her tracks. There had been nothing normal about the past month. _I’ve done things I’ve never done before._ Images poured into her mind. She shook her head to clear it and then jumped as a hand fell onto her shoulder. She looked up to find Haer’Dalis looking down at her, his eyes full of concern. 

“What is it my love?”

She sighed resignedly. “I keep thinking about the people we’ve killed…the one’s I’ve killed. I can’t seem to stop thinking about them.” Her face took on a rueful expression as she added, “I keep hoping I’ll get used to it but it hasn’t happened yet.”

“Give yourself time, Jen and keep in mind that we – you - were protecting yourself.”

“I know and that thought helps. Still, it’s just…well, I’m doing things that I’m not used to doing; that are outside of anything I’ve ever imagined myself doing and not in a good way.” She shook her head, smiling slightly, her tone taking on a sardonic tinge. “When we first talked about it, adventuring seemed pretty exciting; I mean, why _wouldn’t_ I want to go and see the world, meet interesting people and kill them?””

Haer’Dalis raised an eyebrow and smirked back at her. “When you put it like that my love, why not indeed?”

“Things are very different here; life is a lot more primitive; a lot closer to the earth if you will and death seems far closer to everyday life than at home. I’ve been attacked by muggers, bandits and monsters – including Lord Roenall. I’ve never been so close to this much violence or had to defend myself by killing anyone. On my world, one doesn’t generally mete out death on one’s own.” Her lips twisted slightly, “We have a system for it.” She ran a hand over her head, fingers combing through her hair in a nervous gesture. “I guess I feel like I don’t fit in my own skin right now but I’m sure I’ll adjust somehow. Just give me a little time.”

He nodded, eyes softening into a look of gentle understanding. “My poor Kestrel.”

They walked silently for a few more minutes. “Do you know where we’ll be staying Athkatla?” Jen asked suddenly. 

“I thought we’d go the Five Flagons,” Tristan said, overhearing her. “It’s popular, so it’s a good place to pick up work.”

“Oh,” Jen took a few more steps and then turned to Haer’Dalis. “How would you feel if I went to stay with Nanny for a few days? Assuming she’ll have me of course. It’s not that I want to be away from you but I think I need to be someplace familiar right now and the Five Flagons just seems too…impersonal.”

He frowned, looking at her closely, “If it’s the familiar you need, my love, why not the Iron Rose? You and I could go there.” 

She thought for a moment and then shrugged, “That works.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

By mid-afternoon Jen was safely ensconced under a large tree in her favorite corner of the Iron Rose’s small garden. At first she sat quietly but it was difficult to sit still on the hard bench and she soon found herself wriggling and stretching in a seemingly unending search for a more comfortable position. She felt as uncomfortable inside as out for now that she was finally alone and quiet, thoughts crowded her mind leaving it whirling much like the proverbial hamster wheel. Still, she was grateful for the silence and to finally have time to simply exist – to think – without being interrupted by either friend or foe. _That’s the downside of traveling in with adventurers. One is rarely alone and it’s too dangerous to simply wander down the road lost in thought._ She began breathing slowly and deeply, pulling the sweet and slightly spicy green scents of the garden into her lungs as she tried to focus; wrapping herself in the comfort and safety of the familiar surroundings. The Rose is starting to feel like home. A niggle at the back of her mind; a tiny wisp of thought, poked its way to the forefront. _Although I probably won’t be in any one place long enough to call it my own if I stay with Haery._

A bird twittered in the tree above her, pulling her out of her reverie and she looked up in time to see its tail twitch. She jumped hurriedly off the bench, a small dot of greenish white splattering onto the spot where she’d been sitting moments before. Grinning ruefully, she looked around for a leaf or something to use to wipe the droppings away. _Yeah, all kinds of crap happens when you least expect it._ She reclaimed her seat and closed her eyes, finally settling down. Her thoughts too calmed and began to drift. _I do like it here. I’ve always liked being outdoors and doing things that were just a little bit risky…_ Her lips quirked slightly as she remembered how she’d come to Faerun. _Yeah, risks. Like stepping into the cave where I found the portal stone. Beth tried to warn me. Still, it’s turned out ok for the most part. I just never thought I would kill anyone._ Her stomach twisted at the memory and her head spun for a moment until she realized that for some inexplicable reason she was holding her breath. Clutching at the bench for balance, she released the air in her lungs in a loud whoosh. _I’ve been trying so hard not to think about it…about killing…about needing to defend myself. Very different from home… I nearly always felt safe there._ Even so, she knew she’d been lucky; privileged even, to grow up in such a cocoon of security. _Living here, I’m on my own._

The contrast between her two lives suddenly seemed glaring. _No wonder things feel disjointed. I’m not going to be able to tell anyone at home what I’ve done here. They’d never understand._ Her face crumpled suddenly as a brief history of her time in Faerun flashed through her mind; her first glimpse of the party; Nalia with her open smile and offers to help, her first experience with street violence, Lord Roenall leering at her as he held his knife at her throat and finally the bandit whose throat she’d cut. Unlike the other images, his face lingered in her mind and for a moment she could smell the rich sweet scent of his blood as it spurted out, splashing her face and clothes. Her stomach lurched and twisted as tears began rolling down her face. A part of her was gone forever; a naïve and more innocent part perhaps, but a part of her nonetheless. The realization surprised her. _After Ronnie died, I started feeling so old. I guess I’m really not even if I am an adult._ She sniffed back the tears which continued to flow although more from a release of tension now than out of any sense of self-pity. _I’ve always taken care of myself at home, why should Faerun be any different?_ The thought brought with it a growing recognition of her self-sufficiency. _How many other people would have been thrown into a situation like this and survived? Sure, luck had something to do with it but I did manage. I met Haery and Nalia and I worked for Nanny. I have survived here. _As she wiped her eyes with the back of her arm it came to her, that without being entirely conscious of it, she’d found another reason to stay. _I’m not the person I was before. Haery and Nalia understand who I am now even if my friends at home won’t. _A slight smile trembled on her lips as she looked down at her hands, noting the calluses beginning to form on her fingertips. _I’m getting a lot better with the bow. _She preferred it to the dagger although practice was improving her skills with hand to hand combat.______

She remained on the bench until the first shadows of evening began to fall and the inn grew noisy with the sounds of music and laughter. Although tired, she felt much better. _Still, I doubt it will be the last time I think about this stuff._ Her stomach growled, the prosaic rumble reminding her that it had been sometime since she last ate so she rose, making her way back inside. Business was brisk and the common room full but she eventually spotted a small table near the stairs and made her way towards it, beckoning to a passing barmaid as she sat down. It was there that Haer’Dalis found her when he came into the Iron Rose a short time later. 

“Tristan and company settled in at the Five Flagons?” she asked, welcoming him with a smile.

“Yes,” he replied, “And she’s already found work, but I told her we’d not be joining them.” He leaned over to kiss her before adding, “You _do_ want to go home, right?”

“Yes,” she replied. A shout of laughter interrupted them, drawing their attention across the room to a group of young men; clerks and shop keepers from their dress. Two of them – a short blonde man and a taller, gangly-limbed brunette - had climbed on the table holding multiple mugs of beer in each hand. Apparently the goal was to dance and drink without spilling; a feat neither seemed to be accomplishing for each attempt sent splashes of liquid down the front of their shirts and over the surrounding crowd, all roaring hysterically as beer rained down upon them. The group around the table grew larger and more boisterous as bystanders began passing additional mugs of beer to the performers. 

Haer’Dalis rolled his eyes as he took in their antics. “Perhaps we should leave, my love,” he murmured. “Unless you wish to stay and join the festivities? A little tabletop dancing to ease your soul perhaps? Of course such efforts might require you drink a great deal more.”

“Don’t think I’m up for that much drink,” Jen replied with a grin. “I like to _know_ when I’m having a good time.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

They spent the next several days preparing to leave Athkatla. Based upon the information provided by Cambrel, their eventual destination was somewhere outside of the town of Beregost, a journey of some 200 miles across wildness and mountains. While on Earth, this would have been a five hour drive, Jen knew that here such a journey would take upwards of two weeks. They had considered traveling by boat however with no large cities and few points on the Sword Coast where ships were inclined to stop it made little sense. Most vessels traveled directly from Athkatla to Baldur’s Gate which was some distance from their eventual destination therefore they decided to join a merchant train on a well-traveled route over the Cloud Peaks. 

Their last day in Athkatla arrived much more quickly than Jen thought possible bringing with it a final round of farewell visits to Nanny and Lila before heading off with Nalia to the Five Flagons for dinner with Tristan’s company. 

The two young women walked together in companionable silence through the cobblestoned streets. As was common in the city, they found themselves walking in the middle of the roadway to avoid both the merchants and occasional groups of friends and acquaintances stopping to chat. After several minutes, Nalia said, “You know, I’m really sorry you’re leaving. I was looking forward to having you come with us – with Tristan. Still, I’m sure you‘re excited to be going home.” Jen started to answer but was interrupted as a loud clatter came from behind and she jerked around, Nalia’s eyes following to see a laden wagon coming towards them at a rapid rate. The driver didn’t appear to notice them or perhaps didn’t care for he made no move to pull up his team but instead continued to bear down on them. As the wagon drew close, Nalia grabbed Jen’s arm and pulled her towards the buildings. The wagon went past, its wheels narrowly missing them. “Gods, that was close!” she exclaimed.

Jen clutched at Nalia, wide-eyed. “No kidding! Thanks! I’m not wild about getting run down at any time, but to have it happen now would be rather ironic.” She took a careful look around before stepping back into the street, Nalia following. “As to your question about my going home, I have mixed feelings about it. I’m beginning to feel like I belong here and frankly, in regards to home, I’m really not sure what to expect. The part of me that wants to go is doing so out of obligation to my parents. In a way I wish I could just show up on their doorstep, let them know I’m fine and leave again but I don’t think it’s going to happen that way. And then there’s Haer’Dalis. You know I’ve always worried about his wanting to come with me. I don’t know how I’m going to keep him safe…out of sight…out of trouble.” 

Her friend looked at her quizzically, “I know it’s hard to believe but Haer’Dalis is an adult. But I don’t really understand why you’re so concerned.” 

“Well,” Jen said slowly, “my parents won’t be the only ones with questions when I suddenly reappear. The police will probably have questions as well. I’ve got to come up with a story that will make sense to them. Falling through a portal? Disappearing for four months? They’ll just think I’m crazy. And then to have to explain Haer’Dalis.” 

Nalia gave her a puzzled look. “Police? Are they like the City Guard? And what do you mean by having to ‘explain Haer’Dalis’? Let him explain himself!” She snorted. “I’m sure he can come up with a suitable story.”

“Yeah, police are sort of like the City Guard. And as far as Haer’Dalis goes…” Jen shook her head. “I just don’t know. My world is a very different place. People are documented; our names, our addresses, our country of origin. Haer’Dalis not only doesn’t have papers, but even worse he doesn’t look like us. He tells me he can manage even if his Hat of Disguise doesn’t work but I’m not sure it’s that simple.” She pressed her lips together. “I know it probably sounds a bit paranoid to be thinking of all the things that could go wrong. I hate that my parents don’t know that I’m ok but I’m almost afraid to go back.”

“I understand but really Jen, Haer’Dalis is quite clever and if even half his tales are true, he’s survived some rather awful experiences on a number of hostile planes. He’s like a cat – he’ll land on his feet somehow,” Nalia said. She smiled, reaching over to put her arm around Jen’s shoulders. 

Jen nodded somewhat doubtfully, realizing she had no real way to help Nalia understand the potential difficulties. “I hope you’re right.”  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
It was growing late. The Five Flagon’s staff had long since cleared the table of the remains of dinner, leaving the group to chat and drink wine. Still, Jen knew it was time to go if she and Haer’Dalis were to get any sleep before meeting the caravan in the morning, so she stood up, looking around at her friends and making one last round of the group.  
Jen found that saying farewell to Nalia to be the most difficult by far. Although the two young women had spent a lot of time over the course of last week talking about their upcoming separation, when the time came it was still difficult to say goodbye. They hugged each other frequently, each time finding some new way to delay, some final word to offer the other until at last, Jen steeled herself and stepped away. 

“I’ll be back, Nalia. I will. And I know you’re going on with Tristan. Please be careful.”

“And you Jen,” Nalia replied, “Safe journey.” She turned to Haer’Dalis. “You take care of her. If I find out that anything has happened to her or that you’ve done anything to hurt her I will find you. And I guarantee I’ll be carrying both a paralysis spell and fireball with your name on it!”

He laughed and threw up his hands, “Have no fear, my pretty Lark, I’ll not do anything to bring harm to Jen much less risk your wrath!” He took Jen’s arm and drew her away, “Come my love, let us go. We have an early morning.”  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
Jen and Haer’Dalis rose a few short hours later, dressing hurriedly in the dark. The inn’s staff was barely beginning to stir when they left to make their way to the meeting place across town. Jen could see the moon still hanging palely in the sky accompanied by a few, rapidly dimming stars. The sun not yet up although it made its presence known in the rapidly expanding ribbon of light at the edge of the horizon. 

Haer’Dalis took her hand as they walked although he remained unusually silent. Jen glanced towards him curiously several times but his expression remained neutral. Finally however, he became aware of her surreptitious examination and smiled, squeezing her hand gently. “What?”

“You look very thoughtful this morning, that’s all,” she replied 

“’Tis nothing my Kestrel. The beginning of a journey always leads me to wonder about its possibilities. That is all.”

“Possibilities for what?” she asked. A thought struck her and she winked at him, “For causing trouble? Thinking perhaps that a little havoc goes a long way in providing entertainment on what might otherwise be a rather dull journey?”

He grinned back, “Absolutely! But mostly I’m curious as to the whereabouts of our friend Yoshimo for we’re following his route. And while it is early – perhaps too early for word to have been received – I’m wondering how his trip has gone and whether we might in fact, meet up with him at some point.”

She shivered. “Hopefully if we do run into him, he’ll have delivered the Roenalls to their new home. I have no desire to see any of them – particularly Lord Roenall - ever again!”

His mouth tightened at the name. “Nor do I, my love, although you do realize that we will be stopping however briefly at the monastery where they were to be housed. Still, ‘twill be easy enough to avoid them.” 

They were drawing closer to their destination and as they neared the city gates Jen saw a group of six large and heavily laden wagons clustered together at one side. The vehicles were enormous, their beds standing several feet off the ground and high sides roofed over with tarpaulin sheets. Each wagon had two benches across the front, clearly intended to accommodate a driver and multiple passengers. _They almost look like outsized versions of the Conestoga wagons in my fifth grade history book, _Jen thought. Men and women – both human and dwarf bustled about securing loads and hitching up teams of large and heavy-looking horses. Still others stood nearby, their watchful demeanor clearly indicating their role as guards. “This is our party, right?” she asked Haer’Dalis.__

“Indeed it is.” 

As they approached, a wiry dark-haired man of medium height and build detached himself from the group and came forward. 

“Ah, I see our valiant leader comes to meet us. Greetings, Raet,” Haer’Dalis said.

The man nodded, returning his greeting before turning to Jen. “And this must be….”

“Jen Griffith,” she replied. She suppressed the urge to hold out her hand, having learned that it was not a customary greeting, particularly between men and women, in Faerun.

“Welcome!” he said briskly. “Raet Kozsay at your service. You can put your packs in Skeldra’s wagon down there on the end. You’ll be riding with her.” He pointed to a heavily laden vehicle some distance away where a muscular blonde could be seen gesturing with her whip as she talked with the youth holding the harness of the lead horse. Raet looked at them again and then turned to Haer’Dalis. “So, you’re with us to Beregost. I’ve assigned you a guard shift; when we stop at mid-day, come see me and I’ll make sure you become acquainted with your fellows. As to your lady,” he eyed Jen thoughtfully, “I understand your skills are of a more practical nature. You’ll be working with my wife Shaelan. She manages the caravan, makes sure everyone is fed and knows what they’re supposed to do.” He pointed towards an older woman standing by a wagon at the head of the train. “Other than that, you eat what we eat, take your turn on watch and defend the caravan should danger come upon us. Any questions?” He looked from one to the other sharply, nodding in satisfaction as they indicated agreement. “Better get down there then, we’ll be leaving in a few moments.” 

They made their way down to the end of the caravan to find Skeldra. They introduced themselves to her and she replied with her own name before waving towards a caravan guard standing near the back of the wagon. “My brother Skelurn.” After showing them where to stow their gear she pointed to the second set of seats. “You’ll sit there for now. Skelurn sits up front with me, unless of course the terrain gets too rough in which case you’ll all be walking.”

Before long a sharp whistle sounded and the group loaded themselves into the wagons. Raet stood up in the driver’s seat of the wagon at the front of the caravan and lifted his hand to point across the bridge and then cracked his whip with a loud yell. The wagons jolted into motion one by one, moving slowly forward and out of Athkatla.

Jen leaned out, turning so she could see the city as it slowly receded into the distance. _I’m going home. I’m really going home,_ . A prickle of excitement ran through her even as a lump formed in her throat and she felt torn; wanting to be in two places at once.  
She felt movement on the wagon bench as Haer’Dalis slid closer to her, his face gentle as he put an arm around her shoulders. “Finding it hard to leave?”

She nodded, “That’s the thing with any trip, isn’t it? Hard to go, hard to stay.”

“Very true,” he replied. “Still, all will be well Jen, you’ll see.”


	47. Beregost

The late afternoon sun glinted off of the rooftops welcoming them to civilization. The town just ahead appeared to be of moderate size, encouraging Jen’s hopes of both a bath and real bed for the first time in a couple of weeks. Her body ached from several hours of sitting in the jolting, swaying vehicle and not for the first time, she found herself wishing to walk. But Raet had insisted they ride where possible so as to make better time for he was determined to make Baldur’s Gate before the fall rains began, bringing muddy roads and delay. . 

The realities of life in a merchant caravan had proven to be somewhat different than those of an adventuring party. For one thing there had been far less focus on fighting and far more emphasis on day-to-day routine. Her role as Shaelan’s general factotum had had her rising early; often just as the sun came up, to plan and organize the day’s meals, fill water bottles and canteens, hand out supplies and scour pots, pans and anything else Raet’s tidy-minded wife thought needed cleaning.. And there had been little time to rest even in the evenings for Haer’Dalis had insisted she continue her weapons training, enlisting the aid of Skelurn and a few of the other guards to help her practice. 

As the wagon drew closer to Beregost, Jen found herself eagerly peering over Skeldra’s shoulder and as they passed the first inn, she gave a little hop in her seat, scarcely managing to suppress the urge to ask “Are we there yet?” Haer’Dalis gave a slight chuckle at her barely contained energy, “We’ll be stopping soon, my Kestrel.”

“Not soon enough,” she replied. “I’m tired, sore and _longing_ for a bath. It’s one of the best things about the end of a trip – sitting in a tub, I mean. In fact, I think that’s the first thing I’m going to do when we get to our lodging.” 

He shook his head, “You and baths. Not that I’m objecting mind you, ‘tis just…your constant affinity for bathing is a trifle…unusual. And I’d hoped for a somewhat different beginning to the evening.” He grinned, winking at her.

She eyed him repressively. “I’m sure.” 

He gave a heavy sigh, “Such cruelty! After being largely deprived of your company for the better part of these last two weeks, I learn that you wish me to suffer further.” The corners of his mouth drew down as he gave her a look of abject sorrow.

“Ah my poor Haer’Dalis,” she said in mock sympathy. “Your acting skills are superb as always but that was a little overdone, don’t you think? Besides, who said I had to bathe alone?” She leaned sideways, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek and he grinned back, looking considerably more cheerful. 

The caravan continued to wind its way through Beregost, passing yet more inns, a tavern and a general store. _Not much longer, not much longer…_ Jen intoned silently. Skeldra’s mind was running along the same lines for she took her eyes off the road, glancing back at them briefly as she said, “We’ll be stopping soon. We’re leaving the wagons at Arroway’s Refit while we’re in Beregost. Gives us a chance to rest and restock our supplies before heading on to Baldur’s Gate.” Her brother, sitting on the front seat beside her nodded, adding, “Those of us not guarding the wagons will be staying the night at The Red Sheaf. I’d advise you to do the same. Watch it though. The innkeeper’s a bit of a sour old bastard; you might not want to let him know you’re a bard for he seems to hold a grudge towards entertainers. There are other inns but Feldepost’s is expensive and doesn’t like traveling merchants and the Juggler’s pretty loud.”

A few minutes later, they pulled up in front of a large building on the outskirts of town. The field behind it housed several groups of wagons. Arroway’s Refit, Jen thought. She was proven correct as the caravan clattered to a halt, guards jumping down to hold the horses’ heads. 

The noise brought a red-headed man – most likely the business proprietor –out of the building to stare for a moment before making his way to the lead wagon where Raet was waiting for him. The two men spoke for several minutes, the redhead eventually gesturing towards an open area in the meadow nearby. Money changed hands and then the man disappeared back inside. 

A bustle of activity began as soon as the wagons pulled into their assigned spot; the unfortunate few who had drawn guard duty grumbling at their ill-luck. After two weeks on the road, the crew was looking forward to spending a little time in the local watering holes.   
Haer’Dalis and Jen didn’t join in but instead set about locating their belongings and saying farewells. 

They decided to follow Skelurn’s advice regarding the accommodations and it took little time to walk from the caravan park to the Red Sheaf inn. Although the streets leading up to it had relatively unpopulated, they found the inn’s main room to be full and surprisingly quiet. Customers clustered around several tables engaged in low-toned conversations punctuated by the sounds of cutlery clinking against plates and cups being placed back on tables. After a quick look around, they spotted the innkeeper lounging against a small counter not far from the entrance. He looked up at their approach, his eyes lingering on the lute strapped to Haer’Dalis’s back. 

“We’d like a room….” Haer’Dalis began.

“If it’s a room you want, that’s all well and good as long as we’re clear that my patrons need no amusement. They come here for the quiet.” the innkeeper said shortly. Haer’Dalis frowned at the interruption but the innkeeper ignored his obvious displeasure. “This inn caters to merchants who want to talk business in peace and quiet. That instrument on your back tells me you’re a musician so if you’re looking for work, try the Jovial Juggler.”

“I’m not seeking to entertain anyone,” Haer’Dalis replied acerbically, adding sotto voce to Jen, “Other than your own sweet self of course.” Looking back at the innkeeper he said, “A room, preferably with a bath and a meal sent up in a couple of hours.”

The innkeeper eyed him again, “Our public baths too good for you then?”

 _Skelurn was right. The innkeeper is a bit of a bastard,_ Jen thought. Maybe we should go elsewhere although it didn’t sound like the other choices were any better. Probably why this guy gets away with his attitude. 

Beside her, Haer’Dalis gave an exasperated sigh. “Let me guess; argument is one of your many services.” The innkeeper opened his mouth as if to retort, then closed it somewhat helplessly as Haer’Dalis continued in an affable tone, “Of course it is; _nothing_ says “customer service” better than a bit of a squabble to begin the business relationship! So the question is, have you an available room? Or do I need to take my business elsewhere? ‘Tis quite likely one of the other inns in Beregost have a room although sadly, ‘twill probably be provided with less debate.”

The innkeeper had the grace to look mildly embarrassed as he reached beneath the counter, searching for a moment before pulling out a key. “No need to go elsewhere,” he said hastily. “Second floor, down the hall to your right. I’ll send up water shortly.” 

* * * * * * *.* *.* * * * * * 

Jen looked around as they entered the large room, noting the large table and comfortable looking chairs in front of a fireplace. The room was partitioned by a tall screen and peeking behind it she saw both bed and a wide stone tub.

The innkeeper was true to his word and in a very short time a knock at the door signaled the arrival of a small parade of servants bearing large containers of both hot and cold water. The tub was soon filled and as the last of the servitors left the room, Jen let out a happy sigh, hurrying into the sleeping area to strip off her clothes. Haer’Dalis joined her, unbuckling his armor and tossing it on top of his pack as she went to the tub to test the water only to snatch her fingers back exclaiming, “Ow! That’s really hot!” Her tone turned to one of disappointment, “I’m certainly not going to be able to get right in.”

“Ah yes, the best laid schemes of mice and men, oft go awry . Or in this case, the best laid schemes of woman.” Haer’Dalis said. 

“Uh huh,” she said dryly, looking over her shoulder at him. “I’ve not given up on a bath yet.” He grinned, coming up behind to pulling her close. _Even though the trip was relatively short – only two weeks - I’ve really missed this,_ she thought, leaning against him. Haer’Dalis had removed his shirt in addition to the armor and the warmth of his bare chest pressing against her back sent an ripple of excitement through her; a feeling that the hands – _his_ hands - sliding over her belly did nothing to dissipate. She tried to turn but he held her firmly in place, his lips moving across her neck and shoulders as his fingers did marvelously wicked things that sent sparks of electricity across her skin. No further words were spoken but in due time the bed was somehow beneath them, their bodies thrumming with the electricity of their joining and all remaining thought driven away in a sudden frantic tangle of limbs, lips and tongues. 

By the time they eventually made their way to the tub the water had cooled to a far more comfortable temperature and they took a leisurely bath together, getting out only when a knock at the door signaled the arrival of dinner. Finally clean and full but also quite tired, they went to bed, falling asleep in each other’s arms.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jen woke up suddenly. She was sweating and her heart beat rapidly. Looking around, she noticed that although the room was still rather dark, slivers of gray light showed beneath the curtains and automatically glanced at her wrist to check the time, momentarily forgetting she wasn’t wearing a watch and hadn’t worn one in several weeks. She couldn’t say what had disturbed her but she’d been restless, waking to twist and turn before falling asleep again several times throughout a night filled with dreams that began happily enough but ended in some form of disaster. 

The room was quiet except for the sound of Haer’ Dalis’s quiet breathing. His presence was comforting and that was something she needed badly given her uneasy state of mind so she slid closer to him. He roused sufficiently to put out an arm and she wriggled a moment, fitting herself closely against him and then lay still, willing herself to go back to sleep. Although initially comfortable, a variety of small aches and pains emerged, prompting her to stretch and otherwise shift her position. She resisted at first, trying to remain motionless so as not to disturb her sleeping lover but it was impossible. Finally, she gave up; deciding to get out bed with the thought that at the very least she could allow Haer’Dalis to rest undisturbed. However her attempt to move away only served to rouse him. He stretched sleepily, pulling her close again, his hands beginning to move up and down her back, stroking and soothing her much as one might an anxious cat. She tilted her head slightly to kiss his cheek murmuring, “I woke you, didn’t I? I’m sorry.”

“A restive night, my love,” he replied drowsily. It was a statement rather than a question.

“Yes,” she admitted. “I’ve been dreaming. I find that I dream more frequently here than I ever did at home. Or least I seem to remember them more.” She found herself relaxing under his ministrations and buried her face in his chest, breathing in his scent; a slightly smoky, woodsy smell which reminded her of campfires and the outdoors. 

“Your dreams have not been pleasant methinks, given your rather restless state.” He continued stroking, his hands moving in slow circles down her spine and the small of her back. She began to relax, almost purring with pleasure at the soft steady pressure of his fingers. 

He chuckled softly, a low rumbling sound that she felt vibrating against her, then rolled her over, pinning her against the pillows, his eyes twinkling as he smirked at her, his drowsiness clearly gone. “Here on the Primes it is said that gods and monsters send dreams to entertain, influence or deceive,” he replied. “Of course many - such as the gallant Knights of the Radiant Heart in Athkatla - would also say that _I’m_ a monster, so perhaps they are right.” 

She laughed softly, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him towards her. “Even half asleep it seems that men think of only one thing. I assume you’re attempting to influence me now?” 

He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Influence and entertain you perhaps but never deceive, my Kestrel,” he replied. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

She awoke again much later to find Haer’Dalis propped upon one elbow, watching her. As her eyes opened, he smiled, leaning forward to kiss her. 

”I could get used to this you know,” she said softly. 

“I could as well,” he replied. His expression was tender as he reached out to stroke her cheek. “So, my love, if you’re now well and truly awake, perhaps you can tell me what disturbed your sleep so frequently last night.” 

She rolled onto her side, facing him. “It’s rather complicated.” She began tracing the dark red patterns on his torso with her fingers, becoming distracted just as she had on other occasions, by her observation that the lines seemed to warm slightly at her touch. 

He sat up, catching her hands in one of his and using the other to tilt her head towards him so he could look her in the eye. “My love, you’ll not distract this Sparrow further. What is it that bothers you so?”

“If you insist,” she said with a sigh. She sat up as well, pulling the covers over her lap. “I just keep having dreams about going home that end badly. This one was particularly frightening and it made me realize how different my world is. How many…well...restrictions there are and how easy it would be for things to go wrong. I dreamed we arrived on Wizard’s Island at night. For some reason, however, there were army maneuvers going on; war games. We were trapped, captured by one of the teams. You were taken away and I was trapped. I could hear you screaming but I couldn’t escape, I couldn’t get to you….”

“My poor Kestrel, it was only a dream.”

That’s true, but honestly, I still don’t know how I’m going to explain things. I can’t exactly tell the truth – I’d be locked away in mental institution forever if I did.” Her hands moved nervously, the sheets twisting between her fingers and she looked down, frowning at them. “Look, I know I keep saying this but it’s just very different. Maybe I’m worrying unnecessarily; maybe we can stay under the um…radar, but little things keep popping into my head. Like, what if you get sick and need a doctor? That might well provide a clue you’re not human. Then there’s the fact that you have no identification. 

He shook his head. “I think you worry unduly my love. I’ve been to many places on many planes and all have their own unique dangers. I am truly not making light of your concerns, but as far as explanations go, the less said the better. You know I don’t use healers and as for appearance - identities can be disguised and papers obtained. ‘Tis true on any world.”

“Haery, I haven’t the faintest idea of where to even begin in getting a false ID.”

“Then we must exercise caution so we’re not caught and questioned. And as I told you before if the traps cannot be evaded, well, all things must end so ‘tis meant to be.” 

Her eyes widened and brows drew together at his words. “Like you know anything about caution! And getting caught…I don’t think I could live myself if something happened to you because of me.” 

He smiled reassuringly, “My love, worry is futile. Whatever happens will simply happen. We’ll be careful; I’ll be careful, I swear it.” 

She attempted a smile in return but her mouth refused to curve upwards, instead stretching into a thin worried line and her look remained somber as she said, “Alright. Sorry I’m so pessimistic; I just keep thinking about a saying we have; it’s called Murphy’s Law; Anything that can go wrong, probably will go wrong. I am looking forward to going home and I do want you go come but the closer we get, the more I keep finding myself obsessing a bit.” 

His eyes caught hers. “’Tis only by risking our persons from one hour to another that we live at all ,” he said softly.

Her lips tightened again and she nodded reluctantly. “I know. I try to remind myself that risk is part of life; if I hadn’t been willing to risk entering that cave I wouldn’t be here now – with you. Alright, I’ll quit fussing about it, for now anyway.” She stood, “Since we’re awake, let’s get moving. We have a lot to do before we leave Beregost.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Of Mice and Men. John Steinbeck  
>  2\. William James (1842-1910)


	48. Road to the Shining Hand

Jen and Haer'Dalis left Beregost two days later, their departure coinciding with that of Raet’s caravan whose group overtook them on the road, waving and calling out greetings as they passed. Jen shivered as she watched the wagons disappear into the distance; an unpleasant reminder that she and Haer’Dalis were no longer part of a large and very well armed company but in fact were very much alone. _I need to get used to this. We’ll probably be on our own a lot._

She wriggled her shoulders to settle her pack, well aware they had a long day of walking ahead of them before their reached their destination; a caravan stop about two thirds of the way to the Shining Hand Monastery. They followed the road through farmland and pasture finally reaching a fork; the left track heading northwest towards the coast and Baldur’s Gate and the other leading northeast and inland. They took the right fork and soon found themselves entering the forest. The trail seemed well traveled by wagons and other vehicles for it was wide and deeply rutted. _This would have been the way that Yoshimo took the Roenalls. God I wish there had been some kind of communication. I wonder what happened to him?_ Tristan had received no word from him before she and Haer’Dalis left Althkatla and although Haer'Dalis had learned that Yoshimo’s party had passed through Beregost, the fact that Yoshimo had not returned left her with a growing concern that something had gone terribly wrong. 

They continued down the track as it wound through the trees going deeper and deeper into the woods. The forest’s heavy duff muffled most sounds and although the road was clearly well used, there were few signs of other life outside of the occasional rustle of small animals moving through the brush or birds chirping high up in the trees. After a while the woods began to thin, eventually giving way to open meadow before ascending into sparse forest once again. The terrain became a mixture of trees and underbrush and bare, smooth expanses of stone. Water seeped out of the ground in several places making the rock slippery and traction, at least for those on foot, occasionally difficult. 

“It must be a lot of fun trying to bring a heavy wagon through here,” Jen remarked. 

Haer’Dalis nodded. “The lack of accessibility would serve to aid monastic solitude; probably one of the reasons Keldorn thought the Shining Hand’s monastery here a good place for the Roenalls.”

“I just hope they made it and are locked safely away.”

“As do I my Kestrel.” 

They continued on, stopping at times to eat or rest, especially after some of the steeper ascents. Although the Red Sheaf’s taproom patrons had been full of rumors, nothing and no one came out of the woods to disturb them. The air began to grow cooler - a benefit of both shade and higher elevation – and perfumed with woodsy scents; a refreshing change from the typical town smells of stale beer, unaired rooms and poor sanitation. Although Jen was becoming used to such odors, she still found herself noticing them far more than the others around her seemed to. 

After walking for most of the day they reached a large clearing with a small shelter and large fire pit. The sound of water could be heard a short distance away and it took only a brief exploration to locate its source; a small but actively running stream. Jen’s recent journey with Tristan’s company had made her realize that her wood craft and camping skills were far stronger than Haer’Dalis’s leading her to suspect that for all his experience he’d spent most of his time in cities or at least in more urban areas, so after dumping her pack, she went in search of wood.

She took charge of setting up camp; laying out bedding and sending Haer’Dalis for water and fallen timber. He returned in short order and soon she had a moderate blaze going with dinner cooking over it. The fire burned merrily, sparks drifting up a few feet before turning into bits of ash drifting off in the cool evening air. 

“By tomorrow, we should be in your world,” Haer’Dalis said. He sat leaning against a log, his feet stretched towards the fire. Jen sat between his legs, her back resting against his chest. She tilted her head back to look up at him. “You sound excited. I do think it’s probably very different from any world you’ve been to before.” 

“Of course,” he replied, “’Tis always exciting to see something one has not seen before; ‘tis familiarity that breeds boredom.”

She nodded, getting up to stir the pot containing their evening meal before looking back at him and raising an eyebrow. “Somehow I think you apply that criterion to more than just worlds,” she said grinning cheekily at him. 

“True,” he replied. “It applies to many things. Clothes, wine, cheese….”

“And women?” she asked dryly. 

He grinned back at her. “Ah yes, the age old question. It always comes down to that, does it not?” 

She pretended to glare at him. “Hmmmm….seemed like a rather logical leap to me. I’m just checking. Wanted to make sure I wasn’t wasting unnecessary energy because after all, I’ve been trying so hard to be predictable, boring and humdrum. It's hard work and I’d hate for it to be all for naught!” Turning back, she gave the pot a final stir and then sat down, leaning against him once again and tipping her head back to grin up at him. 

He laughed and pulled her across his lap, saying softly, “Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; but never doubt I love thee.1 Which reminds me…I’ve been waiting to find the right time to give you this.” Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a strip of dark leather with by a wide silver bead stamped in an intricate pattern of three intertwined and seemingly never-ending strands which he tied around her wrist. “Do you know what this is?”

“No exactly,” she admitted. “I mean I know it’s a bracelet and it’s a beautiful bead, but that’s about it.” She held her arm up, turning her wrist to better see it.

“’Tis called the lovers’ knot.” He traced the bead’s pattern for an instant with a forefinger, “because the pattern is continuous. I want you to have it Jen.” His eyes caught hers and held them as he leaned forward to kiss her. 

Tears sparkled on her eyelashes as she looked at the bracelet tied firmly around her wrist. “Haery, I…” Her voice caught in throat as she hugged him. “Thank you.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
It was much later, after they’d eaten that they returned to the subject of Earth. 

“You know,” Jen began somewhat hesitantly, “I’m really trying not to worry and while I don’t really expect anything to happen, I tend to believe in being prepared. I think the thing I worry about most is being separated somehow. Perhaps it’s the result of all those dreams I’ve been having lately but I’d just feel better if you knew what to do. I’ll not get home only to lose you. If nothing else, humor me…help me feel better by hearing me out.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper and looked up at him expectantly.” 

He shrugged. “My always practical Kestrel! As you wish.”

“Good!” she said briskly and proceeded to unfold the piece of paper in her hand, holding it out so he could see it. She’d been planning this for some time and had written out her address, her phone number and Beth’s and directions from Wizard’s Island to her home in Althea some 250 miles away. She went over it with him carefully, grateful that Faerun’s language was not so very different from her own. Haer’Dalis looked over her shoulder, listening carefully as she went over the details, looked at the rough maps she’d drawn to explain distances, directions, road signs and nodded as she talked about how to use a telephone and make collect calls. Pointing to the picture she’d drawn she said, “If we’re separated, I’ll get ahold of Beth so she knows to expect your call and if you call her, she’ll help me find you. Oh yeah…and one more thing. No swords. I’ know I’ve told you before, but it’s important not to forget that. Hide them in your pack but for heaven’s sake don’t wear them.”

He nodded and then sat silently, staring at the paper in his hand. "'Tis a lot of information to take in all at once," he said in a low voice, his normally confidant expression now one of bemusement. 

“I know,” she replied sympathetically. “It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all along. Earth isn’t at all like Faerun and I think it’s been easier for me to learn how to do things manually than it will be for you to go forward and have to deal with our technology. It’s why I’ve been worrying.” 

He nodded and stared at the paper for a moment longer before tucking it into the pouch at his side. “I’ll try to make sure we’re not separated.” 

“That reminds me…just a minute.” She jumped to her feet and disappeared into the shelter. When she returned she held a small change purse and her GPS which she thrust at him before sitting back down in her vacated spot across his lap. “Here.”

“What’s this?” he asked in some surprise. 

“It’s all the money I had with me and my GPS.” She stopped at his puzzled look. “GPS. Global Positioning System. I’m not sure how to explain it, except to say that it’s a kind of um…magical map we use for navigation. I want you to have it just in case. And here’s all the money I had in my wallet. I didn’t have a lot with me when I came to Faerun, but this should be enough to at least keep you from starving. We can talk more about it tomorrow as we’re walking. I don't know how useful the GPS will be. Still, I want you to have it just in case.” 

She reached over to touch a small red button on the front of the instrument, “You just push this and then this,” she pointed to a blue button on the side, “Wait for it to come on; you’ll know it’s working because it starts to flash.” She looked up to find him staring at the GPS wonderingly. She reached over to touch a small red button on the front of the instrument, “You just push this and then this,” she pointed to a blue button on the side, “Wait for it to come on; you’ll know it’s working because it starts to flash.” She looked up to find him staring at the GPS wonderingly. 

“You’ve never shown this to me before. Is this type of device common on your world?”

She nodded, “I’ve been trying to tell you. It’s one of many. Listen, I’ve programmed my address into it and once there’s a….um connection it will calculate a route that will lead you to my home.” She grinned, “I’ve should warn you that it talks. It gives directions out loud and it’s got a personality, believe me. The voice is a woman’s. She gets very cranky if you ignore her instructions and she’ll yell at you. I’ve named her Elvira 2.” 

He looked at her, his expression still one of slightly befuddled amazement and then back at the device in his hand. “This poor Sparrow’s head is beginning to swim. Talking machines, phones…. You must find this world very simple in comparison.”

“A little,” she agreed. “But it has its advantages. It has you, for instance.” She turned to face him, straddling his legs as she kissed him. He slipped the GPS and money into his pouch before turning back to hold her tightly, his mouth on hers as his hands slid under her tunic. 

The fire, the darkening sky and the softness of the forest duff beneath them encouraged their activity and they soon became absorbed in each other, so much so that they didn’t hear the sounds of approaching footsteps until the sound of twigs snapping somewhere in the darkness nearby alerted them that they were not alone. Alarmed, Jen slid quickly off Haer’Dalis’s legs and he sprang to his feet, grabbing his swords as he rose. She stood up as well, tugging her clothes back into place and pulling out her dagger as they looked around. She could see nothing moving in the dim forest. The sound came again, this time joined by several sharp rustlings. 

“Bandits?” Jen asked in a soft, nervous whisper.

Haer’Dalis shrugged, gesturing silently towards the hut. She went towards it, looking about carefully as she crossed the short distance between the fire pit and the small building. He followed her inside, leaving the door partway open so he could peer out. They had only a short time to wait. Suddenly four figures appeared in the shadows, moving towards the fire. 

“By the hells,” Jen heard Haer’Dalis mutter, “Who comes here?” However as the figures stepped into the light and looked towards them, he straightened, his defensive posture vanishing as he opened the door and stepped out of the hut exclaiming, “Yoshimo! Where did you come from?”

The Kara-Turan turned at the sound, his body relaxing as he recognized who was facing him. “Haer’Dalis! What are you….” He stopped as Jen came out of the hut, looking at her curiously. 

“I’m taking Jen home,” Haer’Dalis replied, “’Tis a long story. But what of you? The monastery is nearby. Were the Roenalls’ delivered safely?” 

Yoshimo shook his head, “I see we both have tales to tell. Perhaps my men and I can join you?” 

Haer’Dalis nodded. “Yes, suddenly I think it important to hear your tale and you to hear ours as well.” He gestured towards the logs surrounding the fire. “Perhaps you should go first?”

Nodding, Yoshimo settled himself carefully in front of the fire as did the four men accompanying him. Jen recognized Aretas and Malichus from Nalia’s rescue and smiled a brief welcome in their direction, nodding as Yoshimo introduced his other two companions as Brean and Padric.

Jen noticed that Yoshimo’s clothes appeared to be dirty and slightly tattered as if he’d been camping in the forest for many days. “Can I get you anything to eat? We don’t have a lot but certainly enough to offer you something. We can pick up additional supplies at the monastery tomorrow if we need them.”

He nodded gratefully, waiting as she laid out bread, meat and cheese then joined by the others with him began tucking into the food hungrily, stopping from time to time to drink from the canteen hanging at his side. Finally, he looked over at Haer’Dalis. “Thank you. I hate to reward your generosity with bad news my friend. But I must. Isaea has escaped and is free somewhere in these woods.”

“Escaped?! How did this happen?” Jen cried. She turned to Haer’Dalis. “Isaea….!”

Haer’Dalis’s looked at Yoshimo bleakly. “What happened? It seems unlike you to be taken by surprise.”

Yoshimo grimaced. “We weren’t. We’d been hearing noises off and on that last day. We thought it bandits; we’d heard the rumors in Beregost, but we were attacked by wolves. Not just ordinary wolves however; these were joined by a pair of werewolves. Lord and Lady Roenall were killed but Isaea escaped and is somewhere in these forests. My men and I have been tracking him but have not succeeded in recapturing him. We’re beginning to believe he’s joined forces with the bandits that inhabit these woods.” 

“And how do you know he hasn’t been killed by the werewolves that attacked you?” Haer’Dalis asked.

“Because we killed them. And we found his tracks leading into the forest and he seems to have been joined by others,” Yoshimo replied. “Not only that but we came across the bandits two days ago and I swear I saw Isaea slipping into the forest but before we could attack, we were ambushed from behind. Werewolves again.” His jaw clenched for a moment and he held up his right arm and opened his coat so they could see that the fabric was shredded and his arms and chest covered in barely healed scratches “We escaped with our lives but not much more.”

Jen shivered and looked at Haer’Dalis who appeared thoughtful but not alarmed. “Werewolves and bandits. Fortunately, I’ve fought both before and I’m not unprepared. The Sword Coast has a reputation for werewolf infestation.” He picked up her hand, squeezing it gently. “I’ve got protection wards in my pack. They won’t stop the wolves but they will give us warning.” 

She smiled weakly at him, “Weren’t you the one laughing at me a short time ago for wanting to be prepared for the worst?” 

Yoshimo looked interested. “Protection wards? Good idea.” He looked thoughtfully at Haer’Dalis. “It might make sense if we traveled together. Safety in numbers and all that. I would rather not leave this place without making sure that Isaea has either been safely delivered to the monks or is quite dead.” Jen smiled at him, relief flooding her as Haer’Dalis nodded acceptance. 

The group stayed by the fire late into the night talking. Finally however, she started to yawn and deciding it was impossible to stay awake so she rose to her feet. “It’s getting very late and I’m tired. We should leave early if we’re going to reach the conduit tomorrow.”

The others nodded and Haer’Dalis said, “Yes, my Kestrel. I agree. You go on. I’ll follow shortly.” He watched as she headed into the shelter then turned to Yoshimo, “So, shall we draw straws for the watch?” 

Yoshimo shook his head, “I doubt I can sleep just yet. Why don’t Padric and I take the first watch followed by Aretas and Malichus. You can take the last one. One of us will wake you when it’s your turn.”

Haer’ Dalis rose to his feet, “Then make yourselves comfortable by the fire; Jen and I will see you at third watch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. William Shakespeare, 1564-1616
> 
> 2\. A note on the GPS’s “name”: I had a GPS whose female "voice" sounded just like Cassandra Peterson, an actress whose alter ego’s name is Elvira, Queen of the Dark. Thus the name.


	49. The Conduit

They rose early the next morning, hurriedly eating a light breakfast before breaking camp and continue up the forest trail. Since she expected to be back on her own world by nightfall, she’d chosen to dress the hiking clothes although she’d added her vest and cloak along with one of Haer’Dalis’s wards - an odd bit of fur, feathers and beaded membrane strung on a leather strap that was wrapped tightly about her right wrist. She noticed that the idea of using magical protections seemed far less outlandish to her than it had even three weeks ago. _Just in time to go home and back to science and logic, _she thought ruefully.__

The group maintained a watchful silence as the trail wound even deeper into the woods. Filtered sunlight shone through the forest’s heavy canopy which swayed under a moderate breeze, the moving branches casting dim shadows across the ground. The spookiness of the surroundings combined with the threat of bandits, not to mention other and much scarier beings began to weigh on Jen’s mind and she couldn’t help casting glances from side to side as she walked. Yoshimo seemed troubled as well for he picked up his pace, moving so rapidly even with a heavy pack that Jen began to wonder how she would manage if he next broke into a run. It was therefore a great relief to reach a section of gradually thinning trees; evidence that they were approaching open ground. 

“We’re getting close to the monastery,” Yoshimo said. “We should be able to see it shortly.”

He was right and soon Jen caught glimpses of rooftops and tall fence between the trees followed shortly by the sight of a group of blocky stone buildings which was their destination. Manicured gardens of grass, gravel and shrubs lay just beyond the open gates and monks in yellow-gold robes roamed the pathways, occasionally coming together in small conversational groups. She could hear the sound of wind chimes, the high sweet soprano of lesser pipes mingling with the deep booming tones of larger, longer ones.

They were approached by one of the brothers as they entered the grounds, directing them to a public area where they could rest and refill their canteens. It felt good to sit and relax in a place of relative safety and Jen took full advantage of it, leaning back against her pack and closing her eyes. As she drifted off in a catnap she heard Haer’Dalis say, “We’re getting close to where Cambrel’s maps show the conduit.” He jiggled her foot, shooting her a warning glance when she opened her eyes to see him standing over her. “Don’t fall asleep Jen, there’s no time for a nap. We need to move on soon for ‘twill be easier to locate the portal in daylight.” He turned to Yoshimo, “You’ll still accompany us?”

Yoshimo nodded. “Yes. We haven’t searched that area yet and I’d like to do so before returning here for the night.” He got up, “I’m ready to leave whenever you are.”

Haer’Dalis held out a hand. “Get up, Jen. We must go.” She took his hand and rose to her feet, reaching back to pick up her pack. As she did so a chunky red leather wallet fell to the ground beside her. She bent over and snatched it up. “God, I’d better not lose this now.” The wallet had always been too big to fit comfortably in her pocket which was why it had been in her backpack but she suddenly found herself overwhelmed with the need to have it – or at least her identification – in her pocket, so she pulled out the internal bi-fold holding her driver’s license before putting the rest of the wallet in her pack again.. 

Haer’Dalis raised an eyebrow at her inquiringly. “Ready?” She nodded affirmatively and followed the others out the monastery gates. 

The area where Cambrel’s maps had indicated the portal to be located turned out to be a broad and somewhat rocky hillside dotted with bushes and clumps of trees. Cambrel had instructed them to search for two trees growing in the shape of an arch. The concept had seemed simple enough while looking at his map in Athkatla but now, surrounded by clumps of trees, seemed rather difficult if not wholly impossible. _Brilliant,_ Jen thought. _Find a pair of arched trees in the middle of a forest._ She looked at Haer’Dalis. “Any idea how we’re going to do this?”

“Yes.” He smiled at her, pulling the portal gem from his pocket and cupping it in his palm. After a moment, the gem seemed to awaken, giving off a gentle golden glow. He began walking through the trees, his hand in front of him, stopping to change direction as he tried to determine where the glow seemed to grow strongest. Jen watched for a while then found a comfortable spot in which to sit. Yoshimo and his company also watched although they remained upright, alert and clearly on guard. 

Eventually Haer’Dalis stopped. They could see he was standing on a large flat rock near two tall trees, their canopies rising into the air and entwining somewhere above him. The trees were surrounded by grass and small bushes but Jen could see that their trunks were bent in a peculiar curved shape that grew outwards at the base before reaching out to overlap their branches somewhere near the top. She got up and as she came up to Haer'Dalis, saw that gem in Haer’Dalis’s hand had begun to vibrate, its glow brightening into a blaze of light.

“Whoa, look at the gem! Is this it?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied, closing his eyes and cocking his head as if listening. He concentrated for a few moments and then opened his eyes again to look at Jen, “I believe the key is some sort of sound. While ‘tis not entirely clear what note will open the door, I believe it possible to find out in very short order.” He waved the others over. “We must be prepared. Opening a portal or conduit is dangerous for it may already be occupied.”

Yoshimo nodded thoughtfully, “True. I remember when you opened the portal for Raelis we had to fight several creatures before we could follow.” 

“’Tis less likely when using a conduit, but still possible,” Haer’Dalis replied. He turned to Jen, “Are you ready my love?”

She smiled happily and picked up her pack, slinging it over her shoulder. “Yes, anytime you are!” 

He began singing; not words, but notes, ranging in pitch and timbre all the while carefully watching the gem in his hand for response. He worked for several minutes, testing a variety of notes and sounds. Occasionally the gem would vibrate and flash much like a diamond catching a sudden ray of sunlight, particularly when the notes or sounds were shrilly jarring. Finally he stopped, looking curiously at the stone in his hand, and then back at Jen. “I think I have it. Listen!” He opened his mouth and a single clear, crisp note emerged. He held it for a moment and then his voice suddenly shifted, becoming oddly pitched and atonal; a harsh, discordant, sound which made Jen’s teeth ache. She clapped her hands over her ears in an attempt to block the noise and then noticed that the gem in Haer’Dalis’s hand had lit up. It began to glow, its light growing stronger until his palm seemed almost aflame. She stared at it in surprise for she didn’t remember the gem responding that way the last time they’d opened a portal. But he did say it was a kind of master key so maybe it has a different response to different kinds of doors. Haer’Dalis continued to sing, sustaining the note until the light leapt out from his hand and was suddenly mirrored in the oval gap between the trees. As an opening appeared, his voice grew softer until the sound faded away, much to her and the others’ obvious relief. 

Grinning, he turned towards her, making an elaborate bow as he gestured towards the portal. “Haery! You did it!” Jen said wonderingly. She leaned over and kissed him. “Are you ready?”

“Ready as a red-cheeked maiden!” he replied with an impertinent wink and slung the gem’s chain around his neck, carefully tucking it under his armor. He retrieved his own pack and turned to Yoshimo, “The portal will remain open until we enter; once we’re gone nothing should come through. Our thanks for your company and safe travels to you my friend. Go back to Tristan, tell her what happened. I doubt she’ll hold it against you.”

“Perhaps you’re right. Safe journey and fare…” Yoshimo stopped suddenly and looked around, his expression becoming alert and wary. “Did you hear that?” he asked. 

“Hear what?” Malichus asked. There was no time for reply as nearly a dozen tall and heavily bearded men and a rather muscular woman came over the side of the hill and charged towards them. 

The group slowed as it reached them, then one of the men stepped forward. He wore the remains of a fine linen shirt and wool pants under a dirty-looking leather cuirass and held a sword in his right hand which he pointed at Haer’Dalis. “Going somewhere?” he inquired.

Jen’s heart sank as she recognized Isaea Roenall. Beside her she heard Haer’Dalis give an exasperated sigh before saying, “Surely, Isaea, even your dim wit must recognize that as a truly ineffectual opening line. Of course we’re going somewhere. Have you any other inquiries you wish to make or shall we skip the preliminaries and move to what’s obviously intended as the main event?” He dropped his pack on the ground, drawing his swords as he moved in front of Jen. 

She felt her heart begin to pound. Why can’t things ever go smoothly? We’re so damn close; I just want to leave! Behind her she heard an almost electrical humming. “Haery, please! The conduit’s open behind us. Let’s just go! Let’s all go!” Jen begged. He didn’t respond, continuing instead to glare at Isaea. The two of them began circling, sizing each other up until suddenly Isaea sprang forward, his sword raised. Haer’Dalis skillfully parried the blow as Jen darted to the side, her heart in her mouth. Isaea’s move seemed to be a signal to the others for they also attacked, the woman rushing towards Yoshimo sidestepped, allowing the strength of her charge to carry her past him before turning to pursue her.

Jen tossed her pack to the ground and grabbed her bow, dodging two bandits as she put distance between warriors grappling in hand to hand combat and herself. A rock rose up before her and she clambered up it before notching an arrow and letting it fly. She glanced towards Isaea, thinking to aid Haer’Dalis but they were moving too rapidly for her still somewhat uncertain aim so she looked to see where her arrows might be of most use. 

The group had spread out and, with the exception of Haer’Dalis and Isaea, had moved a short distance away from the still blazing portal. Jen raised her bow, aiming for the nearest bandit and let the arrow fly. It glanced off his leather armor with a dull thud and he turned towards her. She readied another arrow as he ran towards her, hoping it would be more effective than the first. Fortunately self-defense proved unnecessary for Malichus attacked the man from behind, diverting his attention. Jen jumped off the rock, moving to another place on the edge of the fray and begin firing again. The female bandit had abandoned her attack on Yoshimo and was busily exchanging blows with Arelius. Jen sent a series of rapid shots in her direction. One shot slipped through a joint in the woman’s armor and lodged in her shoulder. Shouting hoarsely in pain, the woman, plucked frantically at the shaft, breaking it off before another of Yoshimo’s men – Padric, Jen thought – moved forward to engage her. After a brief struggle the woman fell and he and Arelius turned to take on second bandit who went down nearly as quickly as the first. 

They continued fighting. Jen found herself moving at a frantic pace, snatching arrows out of her quiver, notching them quickly and firing and although more bandits fell, Jen and her companions were not unscathed. Jen’s Cloak of Protection had done its work but her right arm ached from bending her bow. As she darted in and out of the trees she passed Padric and Arelius, noting both were bleeding from a variety of wounds. Still, all those with her were still on their feet while of those who’d attacked, only five, including Isaea, remained. _We’ll beat them yet! _Jen thought exultantly, reaching for yet another arrow but as she bent her bow, she saw the ward on her right arm begin to shimmer and she shot a look around, her stomach twisting apprehensively. _Werewolves?!___

The tingling along her arm increased as the first werewolf appeared in the nearby underbrush. Just as with her cloak, she felt a shield snap into place and then the creature dashed past, ignoring her presence as it fell upon one of the remaining bandits. Satisfied it wasn’t coming after her, she dashed away looking around rather wildly for Haer’Dalis. She spotted him a short distance from the still-open portal, his blades whirling as he lunged forward to slash at Isaea and although he didn’t look at her, he seemed to sense her presence for he suddenly called out, “Jen! Go to the portal!” She headed towards it, stopping once to shoot arrows into the melee and saw Padric go down; a werewolf snapping and clawing at him. He screamed but she was helpless to aid him for there were a number of foes between her arrows and his attacker. Then Brean was there, bashing at the monster with his shield and knocking it aside long enough to allow Padric to rise and stagger back. She took up a position near the portal and notched another arrow, this time aiming for the wolf attaching Malichus. _Quiver’s getting light,_ she thought just as her arrow struck home and the werewolf turned towards her with a growl, racing forward. It swung at her, its claws catching at her bow and ripping it out of her hands. She snatched at her waist to draw her dagger, lashing out with more desperation than skill just as Brean and Padric ran up to bury their swords in the beast’s back. It fell with a howl and she joined them in stabbing at it until it stopped moving. 

Jen looked around for her bow. It lay on the ground, the bowstring broken and useless so she left it there. Most of the bandits, other than Isaea, were dead or otherwise incapacitated, although several werewolves remained. Keeping one eye on the various battles, she looked around, searching for another bow while taking care not to move far from the portal. The battle drew closer as the few remaining bandits joined forces with Yoshimo and his men against the attacking wolves and she moved back further for she was far less confident with her blade and hoped she wouldn’t need to use it. 

She continued to search the bodies until a shout followed by the screech of metal catching and sliding across metal pierced through the clamor, drawing her attention and she looked up to see Isaea lunge forward, his longsword sliding past Haer’Dalis’s guard to sink into the tiefling’s shoulder. Haer’Dalis grunted in pain and staggered backwards, landing heavily against a tree, Isaea following, his blade raised for a killing blow. Jen’s hands flew to her mouth in horror, but somehow Haer’Dalis managed to evade the sword coming down at him, twisting and dodging somewhat clumsily, his eyes flickering in her direction and as he turned to clash with Isaea once again, he called back to her, “The conduit! GO!” 

She stood still; vacillating between between a strong desire to reach the safety of the portal and reluctance to leave him in danger and as she caught sight of the blood dripping from his shoulder, she made her decision, grasping her dagger firmly as she looked for an opening. “Haery, I’m not leaving!” 

He did not reply. She continued to watch for an opening, heart in mouth as Haer’Dalis moved forward, more tiredly now, slicing at Isaea and scoring a hit. This time it was Isaea who staggered back only to stumble over a branch sticking up out of the ground. As Isaea struggled to rise, Haer’Dalis ran forward and grabbed Jen by the shoulder, shoving her towards the luminescence which marked the conduit’s opening. “By all the hells Jen, go to safety!” 

She staggered, dropping the dagger as she threw out her hands in an attempt to keep her balance and crying out, “No! Not without you!" and then, "God dammit Haery….!” as she half-tripped, half-fell into the pool of shimmering light. As the walls of light closed around her she saw Haer’Dalis turn back once again as Isaea lunged towards him and then it was as if a door slammed shut, leaving her in silence. She hung in blank space; floating for a moment before being caught as a strong current swept past, catching her up and sending her whirling and sliding much like she was riding an inner tube down a waterslide. The fall seemed to take forever but just as she began to panic, her forward movement slowed and she came back out into sunshine, landing in a patch of dry grass with a thump. She lay still for several moments, waiting for her head to stop spinning. 

Jen opened her eyes to clear blue sky and the gentle warmth she normally associated with early fall. She lay still for a moment, torn between relief at being safe and hopefully on her own world once again and anxiety at leaving Haer’Dalis behind. Tears rose to her eyes as she remembered her last sight of him but as a waft of air ruffled her hair, she brushed them away resolutely and stood up, looking slowly around to try and get her bearings. She was sitting alone on a hillside much like the one she’d left in Faerun – grass, rocks and scattered clumps of conifer and scrub. Behind here were two trees, their shape also showing a slight arch. Turning around, she could see a large body of water dotted with small craft some distance away. Of course, Wizard Island is in the middle of a lake. A large outcropping of rock lay a short distance from her. It looked like it provided a view so she hiked uphill, clambering up its rough side to look towards the water again and this time was able to see the a great deal more. Looking westward – or at least what she assumed was west based upon the position of the sun – she saw a ferry tied up to a large dock. Behind it were a number of buildings, including what looked like a lodge. A few people could be seen moving about; a reassuring sight for it let her know she wasn’t completely alone. 

She looked downhill once again, and spotted a well-kept trail heading in the general direction of the water and given the docks across the lake, she assumed it must have a companion on her side of the lake. A breeze sprang up, catching the ends of her cloak. She gathered them up, tying the ends firmly about her waist in preparation for climbing off the rock and making her way back to her original entry point.

Upon reaching the trees once again she realized that the portal was silent; all that remained were two redwood trees growing together as redwoods often do. There was no shimmering light, no vibration, nothing. A large, heavy lump formed in her chest, rising into her throat and she struggled to breath. _Haery! He’s back there. But I can’t leave. I won’t leave…not without him. He promised he’d follow._ Tears rose to her eyes once again and she took a deep breath, forcing the air past the lump as she settled herself on the ground to wait and praying that she truly hadn’t seen the last of Haer’Dalis.


	50. Wizard Island

The breeze off the lake was growing cool. Jen shivered and drew her cloak more closely about her. It wasn’t much protection from the dropping temperature but it was better than nothing. 

She been sitting in the same spot for at least two hours and there was still no sign of Haer’Dalis. Sick with worry, she found herself once again going over the possible reasons for his non-appearance, replaying the fight in her mind again and again until she stopped feeling the cold or the hard ground beneath her. Haer’Dalis and Isaea fighting. Catching her breath, she saw Haer’Dalis fall backwards, her hands flying to her mouth as her cry of horror joined with a wailing shriek overhead and she glanced upward in time to see a large raptor – a redtail or maybe a sharp-shinned hawk - flying into the trees on the hillside above her carrying what looked like a tiny rabbit. Silence fell and she looked around again. It seemed so real…. But that was before…. The realization served to reactivate the flood of frightened thoughts she’d wrestled with since her return. _What if he was bitten by one of the remaining werewolves? What if he was killed? Her stomach twisted again and she swallowed hard, trying to still her whirling thoughts but to no avail. Maybe he didn’t want to come after all. He seemed…nervous… overwhelmed even, after I gave him my GPS. Maybe he changed his mind. _She rubbed her left arm nervously, her fingers coming into contact with the dark leather band on her left wrist. As she twisted it, studying the bead, she thought, _He’d be here if he could. Something's gone wrong._ Her head began to spin so she took a deep breath, concentrating on the sound of the air going in and out of her lungs, as a logical voice in her head reminded her that panic wasn’t going to solve anything. _I need to move,__ she thought and got up to run up the hillside towards the rocks she'd climbed earlier, using the exercise to clear her mind before going back to the portal site and sitting down to wait once again. _

Finally just before dark, she made her way down the trail she’d spotted earlier, hoping to find shelter closer to the water, figuring it would be warmer than upon the hillside. As she reached the flat, she spotted a trail marker stamped with the words, “Wizard Island Ranger Station .4 miles” and as a lump forming in her throat at the sight. _Home or almost. Haery did get me back!_ Although she’d been sure she was back on Earth from the moment she’d opened her eyes and seen blue sky, the words served to confirm it as truth.

A few minutes later she was standing in front of the ranger station; a group of several small buildings, each displaying a National Park Service logo. The doors were shut and by all appearances the buildings were empty. She wasn’t actually sure of the time of year although if time ran at the same rate in Faerun as it did on Earth, she thought it was most likely late September. She continued to explore, relieved to find that while the buildings were closed, they were not boarded up as she would have expected if the area was closed for winter as was typical of more remote park locations. Signs posted near the boat dock indicated there was a thrice daily shuttle service so she settled down to wait, spending a rather cold and restless night alone, huddled against a building, wrapped in her cloak.

The sound of a boat’s engine chugging up to the dock roused her the next morning and she opened her eyes to see a ferry pulling up to the dock, disbursing several people, maintenance workers largely, although she also saw that five of them – two men and three woman - were wearing uniforms. _Park Rangers._ She stood up, waving and calling only to have the entire group halt, almost as one, turning to look at her in astonishment before one of the male rangers, an older man with wiry salt and pepper hair and a large grey mustache, said something to the others, waving his hand in obvious dismissal. While the workers went off toward their various posts, two of the uniformed strangers approached and after getting past their initial surprise at finding her and verifying she wasn’t injured - just cold - ushered her into a nearby office.

She was shown to a chair next to large wooden desk and handed a blanket. “Just sit here. We’ll talk in a minute,” said the mustachioed ranger. She noticed he had a handgun strapped to his waist and a shield-shaped badge reading ‘Law Enforcement’ pinned to his right shoulder along with a name tag reading ‘Kent Ackerman.’ He motioned again, encouraging her to take a seat and she sat down obediently, wrapping the rough blanket around her shoulders as she tried to get warm. She watched silently as the man pulled a laptop out of its case, setting it up and turning it on before pulling a hand-held two way radio and a note pad out of a desk drawer. Just then one of the female rangers, also wearing a gun and law enforcement badge, entered the office, handing Jen a cup of coffee and a packaged pastry which she consumed gratefully as she looked carefully around the room, noting the day and date on the daily calendar on the desk in front of her as she tried to come up with a plausible explanation for her presence on the island. 

“Would you mind getting me a cup of coffee too, Ann?” the officer asked. The woman narrowed her eyes at him, her lips moving sideways in a sardonic smile as she exited the room. The officer ignored her, instead glancing towards Jen as he sat down at the desk. He rummaged in a drawer, finding pen and notepad which he placed in front of him before reaching out to turn the desk to ‘Wednesday, September 15.’ Finally ready, he picked up the pen and pulled the notepad onto his knee. “I need a little information to help me understand what you’re doing here. Let's start with your name.” he asked.

“I’m Jenessa Griffith.”

“Jenessa Griffith,” he repeated, writing the name down on the pad. “One ‘n’ in Jenessa or two?”

“One,” she replied. 

“Do you have any identification?” He waited as she dug out her driver’s license and handed it to him. After studying it for a moment he continued, “So, tell me, Ms.,” he paused briefly, looking down at the license for confirmation, “…Griffith, how you got here. There were no cars in the ferry parking lot on the mainland and no extra boats in the dock when we arrived which indicates you must have spent the night here. I’d to hear how you managed that.” He leaned back, looking her over carefully, letting his eyes linger on the werewolf ward on her right wrist and the cloak over her shoulders. 

“I missed the last ferry yesterday,” she replied hoping he didn’t notice the nervous quiver in her voice.

“You missed the last ferry. Did you come over alone or with a group?” 

She pondered the question for a moment. _If I tell him I was with a group he’ll wonder why no one said anything about me missing but if I tell him I was alone and Haer’Dalis appears, how do I explain that?_

“Ms. Griffith? Answer the question please,” he said commandingly. He was clearly used to be obeyed.

She made her decision, knowing that even if Haer’Dalis did suddenly appear, he was more likely to slip into a crowd and make his way to the mainland than come forward and ask for help as she had. “I came alone. I hitch-hiked up to the lake from Medford and caught the ferry. I-I’ve been having some… relationship issues and I came up here to think.” Her eyes filled with tears with the memory of her last sight of Haer’Dalis. She sniffed trying to hold them back but they overflowed, creating clean tracks through the light layer of grime on her cheeks as she added, “I was hiking alone and I guess I lost track of time. Anyway, I missed the ferry and ended up spending the night.” She picked up the edge of her cloak, using it to dab at her eyes. “It gets pretty cold here.” 

“Yes.” He pressed his lips together, his lower lip thrusting out slightly as he looked her over carefully. “That’s an interesting garment you’re wearing Ms. Griffith. What is that, some sort of coat? I don’t remember anyone coming off the ferry yesterday wearing such an item. It’s rather unusual. I think I would have noticed.”

She swallowed as she looked back at him. “I wasn’t aware that the park service had so many officers available that they could watch for everyone coming off the ferries. Anyway, I had it tied around my waist, so there’s no reason anyone would have noticed it.”

“Hmmm….” he said in a noncommittal tone and made a few more notes on his pad. “When did you arrive here?”

Jen remembered seeing the signs with the ferry schedule. “I came over on the afternoon ferry. I guess I would have arrived about 1 o’clock.”

“I see,” he replied. He pointed to a map on the wall. Can you show me here on the map just exactly where you were hiking?”

She obliged, pointing out the trail she’d come down, pleased to see that in fact it was a long one running across hills to the far side of the island before circling back to the ranger station. I was returning actually and sat down by some trees somewhere around here…” she pointed, “I thought I’d be ok, since I could see the dock but I feel asleep. When I woke up, it was late.”

He looked troubled, “Did you see a big outcropping of rock?”

She nodded.

“And the trees…were they above or below it? 

“Below,” she replied. “There were two of them and they were growing together. Kind of an unusual shape.” 

“Hmmmm…ok, I know the spot. Strange place for a nap but that particular spot has always been rather…odd. Well, I’m going to need to verify that you are who you say you are, Ms. Griffith. You just sit here while I run your driver’s license.” He picked up the radio and holding down a button on the side said, “Dispatch? 416. I have a California DL to run.” He released the button and waited.

A couple of seconds later the radio crackled and a disembodied male voice replied, “Go ahead 416.” 

Officer Ackerman pressed the radio button again. “Whiskey-four-nine-one-nine-five-three. I repeat, Whiskey-four-nine-one-nine-five-three.”

They sat in silence, waiting for the response. John, the other ranger, came back from wherever he had been and placed a cup of coffee on the desk saying, “There you go Kent.” Officer Ackerman nodded his thanks and the second ranger walked away. 

Just then the radio sputtered back to life. “416, this is Dispatch. Our records show your DL belongs to a missing person. Jenessa Griffith, 26-year old Caucasian female, 5’5” tall, weighs approximately 132 lbs. Last seen wearing gray hiking pants and a green t-shirt.” The ranger looked at Jen and raised an eyebrow. Dispatch continued, “416, you are instructed to hold Ms. Griffith until transport arrives. Where are you 416?”

“Dispatch, 416. I’m at the law enforcement office on Wizard Island.” 

The radio crackled. “419, this is Dispatch. 416 needs to transport a person of interest from the law enforcement office on Wizard Island.”

The officer looked at Jen. “So, there’s a missing person’s bulletin out for you. Shall we go over your story again, Ms. Griffith?”


	51. Family Reunion

Over the next few hours Jen found herself thoroughly regretting her return. _Stupid, stupid, stupid. Coming home was one of the stupidest ideas I’ve ever had. If I hadn’t Haery and I would be together right now._ The thought of Haer’Dalis was worrisome. Thinking about what might have happened - especially the thought that he might be dead - still panicked her, making it difficult to breathe. _God I hope he’s ok. It would so unfair if he killed after he saved me - after all we’ve been through. And then there’s my parents. How am I ever going to explain this to them?_ She blew out a breath, trying to empty her lungs before drawing in a long slow breath which helped but didn’t cure the feeling of anxiety that threatened to overwhelm her. 

Kent Ackerman had continued to ask questions about her presence on the island, none of which she was able to answer to his satisfaction given her lack of a round trip ticket stub and “missing persons” status. At the moment, he was on again on the radio, talking to Dispatch. 

The arrival of the mysterious ‘419’,a very fit and energetic female ranger who introduced herself as ‘Audie’, ended his questions although he did spend a final few minutes giving her a stern lecture and a warning about violating park service regulations. Much to her relief, he forbore giving her a ticket although she’d half expected him to do so. “Don’t let me see you back here again young woman,” he said gruffly as she rose to follow Audie. “And tell that boyfriend of yours he’s a fool for letting you come here alone.” She looked at him in surprise and saw his expression had softened slightly and become more kindly. “We have enough trouble with fishermen and other types trying to camp here. There are other dangers besides cold you know. There are safer places to go to think about a relationship.” He glanced up at Audie, “She’s all yours now.”

Jen followed Audie out of the building and down to the boat dock where they boarded the afternoon ferry. The trip was brief – a half hour at most – and Jen largely passed the time staring down at the water under Audie’s watchful eye. Once they reached the mainland Audie turned her over to the waiting Oregon State Trooper, another woman, who showed Jen to the car, installing her in the back seat. It was Jen’s first time in a police vehicle and she felt extremely uncomfortable, particularly when she realized she was well and truly caged for there were no handles on the interior doors and a wire mesh screen separated her from the driver. 

After a journey of nearly three hours on winding narrow roads they reached the outskirts of Medford. Since the officer hadn’t communicated much other than to say their eventual destination was in Medford and that her parents had been notified, Jen suspected she’d be driven to a police station. However, as the car finally pulled off the freeway, the officer finally spoke up to say that in fact their destination was Providence Medford Hospital. “Stand procedure in a missing person’s case,” she added, “after which you’ll be free to go with your parents although once you get home your local law enforcement will have questions. They have jurisdiction over your case after all.” 

The officer escorted Jen to Emergency where several patients in various states of distress, sat waiting in the room’s rather uncomfortable plastic chairs. Jen expected to join them but instead found herself ushered almost immediately into an examination room where a young woman in scrubs handed her a paper gown and directed her to completely undress before bustling away without giving her a chance to ask any questions. The trooper accompanying Jen also started to leave but stopped as she called out, “Hey! Wait! When will my parents get here?” 

The woman glanced back with a wintry smile, “Your parents were notified several hours ago and were told we were taking you here. I understand they’re on their way. You’ll be safe enough here until they arrive.” She left the room closing the door carefully behind her. 

The minutes ticked by slowly as Jen sat on the examining table waiting for anyone else to come in. Finally a frazzled looking nurse entered the room to take her blood pressure and temperature before hurrying away just as the orderly had done before her. Alone once again, Jen looked around the sparsely furnished room, noting that it was sadly lacking in reading material other than an extremely old copy of Parenting magazine and a several-months-old celebrity gossip rag. She read both from cover to cover fairly quickly which left her with nothing to do but ponder over the best way to explain her absence and subsequent return as well as possible reasons for Haer’Dalis’s continued nonappearance.

She welcomed the doctor’s entrance into the room as a distraction from her thoughts. The poking, prodding and sampling that seemed to be required to assess her physical health was intrusive but it also kept her occupied. Unfortunately, the doctor also insisted on asking her an increasing number of rather probing questions ranging from simple things like the day, date and time to ones about her recent experiences. She answered as truthfully as she could, keeping her responses as simple and factual as possible without claiming amnesia; a claim which she felt sure would only end in keeping her locked away for more tests. The questions seemed endless but just as she began to suspect that her responses were generating more rather than fewer questions she finally heard the words, “We’re done here, Ms. Griffith. You appear to be in good health.”

“What’s next? When do my parents arrive?” she asked.

The doctor stripped off her latex gloves, tossing them into the trash before turning to look at Jen. Her face and tone remained neutral and she ignored Jen’s question in her reply. “You’ve been gone a long time and just spent a night outdoors in the cold. I’d like to have you stay here for a day or two to make sure you’re not suffering any additional mental or physical effects from…what you’ve been through.” 

Jen shook her head. Her face wore a rather determined expression although she was careful to keep her tone equally dispassionate. “No. I don’t want to stay. You’ve just told me I appear to be in good health, so it’s not about exposure. I can’t see that there’s any reason to keep me.”

A slight frown crossed the doctor’s face as she replied. “I just want to make sure that your…adventures have left no residual effects. While you seem fine physically, I noticed you didn’t have answers to a number of my questions.”

“Well, you know I don’t think I’ve really said anything or not said anything for that matter which should be of concern. For example, I’ve said nothing that indicates I’m planning to harm myself or anyone else and I believe I passed the – what is it called? Oh yeah, the mental status exam. I do know the day and date for example and I seem to be speaking coherently, so I’m pretty sure there’s nothing that would warrant keeping me for observation without my consent. And I’m also sure that my parents would be considered appropriate observers under the circumstances if I didn’t stay in the hospital’s care. And right now I just really want to leave. I want to go home.” 

A slight frown crossed the doctor’s face as she replied, “I can’t stop you if you’re determined to leave although I think it would be in your best interests to stay. I understand your parents were on their way. I’ll check with the trooper and see if they’ve arrived. Why don’t you get dressed while I go look for them?” She left the room as Jen jumped off the examination table, reluctantly dressing in her somewhat soiled garments once again before starting to pace back and forth in the small room, straining to hear any sound that would indicate her parents were coming down the hall. She fervently hoped that her mother had thought to bring some extra clothes since Jen had nothing but the dirty ones on her back. 

The minutes ticked by and the doctor didn’t reappear. Jen climbed back up on the examining table and lay down, closing her eyes. She realized she must have dozed off for she awakened to the sounds of footsteps and voices coming down the hall and although she could only hear bits of the conversation, she was pretty sure the doctor was trying to enlist her parents help in encouraging her to stay in hospital for she was using worrisome phrases like, ‘…no knowledge…disappearance…,’ and worst of all the words, ‘keep her for observation….’

A few seconds later the door swung open to admit the doctor and her parents and she quickly swung off the table to throw herself into first her father’s and then her mother’s arms, tears beginning to stream down her face as she hugged each of them tightly. Her mother also burst into tears, “Oh sweetie, we’ve been so worried.” Jen hugged her hard in response and it was several minutes before any of the three of them could speak with any coherence. Finally however, Jen stepped back. “I’m ready to go whenever you are,” she said. 

Her mother shook her head, “Jen, I’m so glad to see you and I want nothing more than to have you come with us. We have so many questions about what happened. But the doctor thinks you should stay overnight; just to be sure.” She looked at Jen imploringly. 

“I don’t want to Mom, I’m fine. Besides, I’m sure I don’t have insurance coverage any longer and I don’t even know how I’m going to pay for this, much less overnight.” She slid an arm through her mother’s, the physical contact meant to calm herself as much as to reassure her parent. 

“Don’t worry about it Jen,” her father said, his voice rough with unshed tears. “We’ll take care of things. We’re just so glad to see you…so glad to have you safe.”

“Jen, listen to the doctor, her mother broke in, patting her hand. “We just want to make sure you’re ok.”

“I’m fine. Really I am,” Jen said firmly. “And as far as recovery goes, I’ll be much happier and feel much better when I’m walking out the door with both of you, heading for home. Mom, Dad, please. Don’t try to make me stay. I’ll be fine – you guys can watch me if you think I need watching.” She looked at them pleadingly and after a minute her father nodded. 

“She’s right, Sarah. We’ll be with her and can bring her back if we need to. And I’ll feel better if she’s with us right now.” He put an arm around Jen and looked at the doctor. “What’s the discharge process?”

“If you’ll wait here a moment, I’ll send the case manager in to walk you through it,” the doctor said, giving them a look of strong disapproval as she left the room. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jen turned the shower off and stepped out, delighted to be clean once again. She’d managed to avoid much in-depth conversation with her parents on the trip to the hotel and again after they reached the room based on the simple expedient of throwing herself into the bathroom. Now however, she’d have to face them. She dried herself off quickly and got dressed, thankful that her mother had indeed thought to provide her with fresh clean clothes. Bundling her dirty garments into a ball, she tucked them under her arm and exited the bathroom. Her mother looked up as she entered the main room of their small suite. “Feel better dear?” 

Jen nodded as she tossed her dirty clothes onto a bed. “Very much so although food would be welcome. I haven’t had much to eat in the last couple of days.” 

“Then let’s go eat,” her father said. He stood up and turned off the television, coming over, to put an arm around her. He and her mother had been hugging or patting her almost continuously since their reunion; something that normally she would have found irritating but at the moment was finding to be surprisingly soothing. The physical connection had the added benefit of keeping her mind in the present and away from her fears for Haer’Dalis.

They decided to eat in the hotel’s restaurant and made their way downstairs. After seating herself at the table, Jen immediately opened her menu, pretending to study it carefully. Her stomach was protesting loudly although she thought it more from nerves than hunger. Now that she was alone in a quiet spot with her parents, she rather dreaded the idea of talking about her experiences. _After all, what can I actually tell them?_ she wondered. _There’s no way to really say anything without them thinking I’m totally and completely insane. And how or what can I tell them about Haery? I can hear myself now, ‘Well Mom and Dad, I stepped through a portal into a completely different world. It was called Faerun and it looked a lot like Earth but it wasn’t. I was rescued by a war band, made friends with a mage and fell in love with a guy who did his utmost to help me get back here. Oh by the way, the guy I mentioned? He’s a little different than most….he’s got blue hair, pointed ears and apparently there’s something a little um… diabolical about his family._ Her brows drew together in a frown as she mentally face palmed. _Yeah. That’ll go over well._

The waiter arrived a few minutes later to bring water and take their order. After he left, Jen and her parents sat looking at each other. It was clear none of them were sure quite where to start and Jen felt her stomach twist as the silence wore on. A sense of relief swept over her when her father finally said, “You’ve been very quiet since we left the hospital, Jenny.” It had been a long time since he’d used her childhood nickname and his use of it now told Jen just how upset he’d been. “It probably seems kind of overwhelming or maybe even upsetting to talk about, but your mother and I really do feel like we deserve to know what happened; to know where you’ve been and why you didn’t call us all this time.” 

Before she could speak however, her mother put a hand on her father’s arm, “Ron, don’t push her. Remember what the doctor told us on the way to the examination room? That we shouldn’t push it; that if she doesn’t want to talk right now, it’s ok.” She reached over to take Jen’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m just thankful to have you back with us.” Jen squeezed back, her eyes filling with tears as she looked across the table and took a good look at them both. 

Her parents seemed to have aged quite a bit since she’d last seen them. Her father’s face sported deep new lines and the pouches under his eyes were dark and puffy. Her mother too looked older and more tired and the hair brushing back from her temples which had been a light salt and pepper was now entirely grey-white. _True they aren’t getting any younger, but this is my fault._ She felt a twinge of guilt, knowing that if things had gone as she had planned, she and Haer’Dalis had intended to continue traveling, leaving her parents alone once again. She stopped. _No, not ‘had planned;’ planned. He will show up. But this time I’ll at least find a way to let them know so it’s not quite so much like losing Ronnie. I do want to be able to visit them and not have it be like I’m dead._

Her father nodded, “I am thankful. However, she’s going to have to talk sooner or later. Both the trooper who contacted us as well as the one who was here when we arrived told me that our local Sheriff’s office has been notified of her return.” He turned to Jen, “The county Sheriff’s Office did an extensive search after you disappeared; they questioned poor Beth and your mother and I several times. They’ll want to talk with you.”

“I know,” she replied. “I feel awful about Beth and you having to go through that. How is she? Does she know I’m back?”

“It was hard for her to be suspected of wrong doing and she misses you very much,” her mother said. She squeezed Jen’s hand again. “She does know you’re back. I called her before we left. And your father’s right, there will be questions. The sheriff will want to close out the case. But if you’re not ready to talk, I understand.”

“It’s ok Mom,” Jen said aloud. “It’s really ok. I can’t even imagine what it was like to have me disappear ….” She stopped at the look in her mother’s eyes and got up to hug her, her own eyes filling with tears. “Oh Mom, I’m so sorry.” Looking up she saw her father watching her and went over to hug him too before sitting back down. They sat in silence for a few moments, her parents eyes’ scrutinizing face until finally she said, “I-I don’t know what to say exactly. I guess I really don’t know where to begin and I can’t say that I understand everything that’s happened myself.”

“Try us,” her father said, giving her a brief smile. “How about starting with why you didn’t try to call us?”

“I _couldn’t_ Dad.” She looked him in the eye without flinching, relieved to be telling enough of a variation on the truth. “The group who found me didn’t have any kind of phone and they seemed to stay pretty far off the grid. And I didn’t take my cell phone on the hike. I did have my GPS but it didn’t seem to have coverage either which makes me doubt that my cell phone would have worked even if I’d had had it with me.” She looked at him apologetically, getting up to go hug him again. “I’m so sorry to have put you both through this. I would have called or something if I’d been able to.” 

“That doesn’t make a lot of sense, Jenny,” her mother said. Although she spoke calmly, Jen could feel an undercurrent of anxious tension emanating from her. “I know there aren’t nearly as many public phones now but some are still around. You know we would have accepted the charges. Or what about going into a police station? Or a gas station? There are any number of places that would have let you use a phone, especially once they heard your story. You had to have known we’d be looking for you.”

Jen looked down at the table and then back at her mom. “It just…wasn’t possible. Like I said, the group seemed to stay off the grid.”

“And that didn’t concern you? Worry you? My God, they were probably criminals!” Her mother’s voice rose sharply as she continued to probe.

Jen shrugged, her eyes pleading for understanding. “I don’t think so Mom. I never saw any sign of it and they did take good care of me. I mean two of them became…good friends and one of them risked his life to get me back here.” Her voice broke slightly, “In fact, I wouldn’t be here now without him.”

“So what happened and where were you?” her father asked. “You vanish into the blue and then suddenly show up in a national park miles away from where you left.” His brows snapped together in a frown. 

Her shoulders sagged as she looked at him. It felt horribly wrong to be so evasive when she knew her parents had every right to be upset and concerned, but she felt there wasn’t much she could say that wouldn’t simply increase their distress. Finally she said, “I’m trying to tell you. Really. But answer a question for me first. Beth was with me that day. What did she see? What did she tell you?”

He began to answer, his mouth opening and then closing as their waiter appeared with a bottle in hand. Conversation stopped as her father took a few minutes to go through the rituals associated with serving wine, waiting until their glasses were filled and the waiter had gone before answering. “Beth has never said much either. She claims that the two of you found something in a cave and that when you stepped outside to look at it you just… disappeared…which I find hard to believe.” 

Jen shrugged, buying time by picking up her glass and swirling it for a moment as she thought about what to say. She took a sip and swallowed before saying in a low voice, “That’s just it. I _did_ just disappear." Her parents exchanged worried looks as she hurred on, "I mean one minute I was in the Blackridge Wilderness and the next I was…somewhere else." She stopped to take another swallow of wine, “I know this sounds crazy, but I…well I actually don’t really know where I’ve been. I remember a forest. And being found by a group of people. I guess you could call them travelers…”

“Travelers…?” her father interrupted, giving her an odd look and flushing as his wife shot him a warning look. “I know you don’t like me to talk about it Sarah, but I do know a little about them. Family history and all that. But they do live off the grid and never stay anywhere for long. So if they were the ones who found Jen, it could have been hard for her to make contact.” He looked at Jen, “Although if you were with a group of travelers and they wanted to help you get home as you say, I don’t understand why they wouldn’t have just dropped you off somewhere near civilization and let you make your own way. That’s more their style anyway.” 

“Yeah.” Jen knew her great-great grandfather had been a traveling tinker. “But I don’t know exactly what they were. I mean some of them were gypsies of a sort, but not all of them. And as to contact - we never went anywhere that wasn’t pretty primitive so contact was pretty much impossible. And even though they were willing to help me, they had a lot of reservations about getting too close to uh… to coming here. Only one of them was willing to try.” Thinking about Haer’Dalis was upsetting and for a moment her face crumbled. She took a moment to calm down before going onto provide her parents with a carefully edited version of her story, finally ending with, “...but I was so worried about you guys. I remember what it was like after,” her voice caught for a second before she steadied it and went on, “...after Ronnie died and I didn’t want you to think you’d lost us both.” 

Her parents nodded and then her mother said cautiously, “When you were telling your story just now, you mentioned a man...I think you said his name was Harry?...who helped you. It sounds like he meant something to you. More than just a friend. But you said things didn’t go as planned?”

_Trust Mom to pick up on the boyfriend bits._ “That’s right. We were separated and I found myself here. I don’t know where he is now. I wish I did.” She felt pressure behind her eyes and blinked to hold back the tears which threatened every time she thought of Haer’Dalis.

Her father eyed her thoughtfully, his lips compressed. “Sounds like you’ve been through a lot, my dear. I must say, I don’t know quite what to think about all this.” His voice took on a tinge of frustration as he added, “It doesn’t make any sense to me at all. You say that you were just suddenly in a forest. Beth says you suddenly disappeared. What the hell happened Jen? No one just ‘disappears’. You had to have to have gotten there somehow.” He looked at her narrowly, “You’re holding something back and I wish you would trust us…tell us what really happened.” 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say that will help,” she replied, burying her face in her wineglass. 

Her mother reached over to squeeze her father’s hand and she saw them exchange glances. “Hmmm....I don’t know about that.” Her father’s expression became thoughtful once again as his eyes searched her face. “These people who rescued you. You’re very careful in what you’re saying about them, Jen. I can’t help but wonder if the doctor was right. That they’ve influenced you in some way....”

“No!” Jen spoke forcefully, cutting him off. Her parents stopped, looking at her, both concern and shock mingled in their expressions. She took a breath, trying to keep the anxiety out of her voice, “I mean, I understand how it might seem like they might have brainwashed me, but that’s not what happened.” Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the waiter making his way to their table with his arms full. Relieved to be interrupted she added, “Please Dad. We can talk more later but right now our dinner is about to arrive. Can’t we just eat and enjoy being together again without playing twenty questions?” 

Her father shook his head, opening his mouth to continuing, stopping as her mother placed a hand on his arm. “Of course dear,” her mother said firmly. She glanced at Jen, looking at her in a way that let her know that even if her mother had doubts about what she’d heard she wasn’t going to waste time trying to dispute it now. Her mother was nothing if not pragmatic and Jen was well aware she had numerous and fairly subtle methods of inquiry. On more than one occasion, Jen had found herself inadvertently sharing things with her mother she’d fully intended to keep private, so she knew she’d need to exercise extreme caution when talking with her alone about either Haer’Dalis or her adventures. 

Her mother turned to look quietly to her father adding, “Ron, we’re all exhausted. It’s been a long day and I think we’d all be better off doing as Jen suggests. We have plenty of time to talk about this and figure things out and get her whatever help she needs.” She caught and held his gaze as the waiter put plates down in front of them.

Finally Jen’s father looked down, sighing heavily. “You’re right Sarah,” he said. He looked around the table, and raised his glass. “We have time and we’ll take things slowly. Now how about a toast? To Jen’s safe return and to having our family together again.”


	52. Intervals - Part I

Late September – Earth

Jen woke as the car pulled off the freeway and came to a stop. _I’m nearly home._ Her father made a right turn, pulling onto the busy street next to the freeway. The familiar sights of the small town of Althea flowed past; the hospital, the county library, the small downtown area with its combination of historic Old West store fronts and more modern buildings. She looked dully at the window, the sights barely registering for she felt battered and tired; numb even. It had been three days since her return from Faerun and there was still no sign of Haer’Dalis, not that she truly had any way of knowing whether he’d eventually come through the portal or not. She continued to wonder and worry with a part of her saying he’d been wounded too badly to follow – or even that he was dead - while another denied it, insisting that it was only a matter of time before he appeared. 

The last couple of days had been particularly hard as her parents had continued to gently press her for details about her disappearance and she’d finally told them the truth - or at least a version of it – which, as she suspected, only served to make them worry more. _But it’s true, one minute I was standing in the sunlight looking at the stone I’d found and the next I was somewhere else. Beth says she came out of the cave right behind me and I was gone. Like I told Dad, that’s what happened and I have no rational way to explain it except to say that maybe there are things I can’t remember._ She sighed to herself; _I can’t believe that the idea that I might have been hit over the head and carried off; that I might have some form of amnesia, seems to be preferable to thinking that there’s no explanation. Either way though he and Mom probably just think I’ve lost my mind. Although why they think so when Beth’s story is so similar is beyond me._ The thought was hardly comforting and she wondered how others would view her as well. I should never have come back. The notion was hardly comforting and she wondered how others would view her as well. I should never have come back. A flash of guilt accompanied this last thought for had she not returned, her parents would still be in pain, thinking her possibly dead.

She continued to look out the car window, wanting the trip to be over and realizing that now that she was back she was looking forward to being in her own house. _I’m glad there’s still a place of my own to come back to._ Her house belonged to her parents and although she hadn’t worried that it would be sold –they were her landlords after all – she had been concerned that they might have rented it out to someone else. However, they’d reassured her that nothing had changed, her mother adding, “I just couldn’t bear to go through your things. Not yet anyway,” before hugging Jen and bursting into tears as she had several times since they’d been reunited. 

When they reached Main Street her father went through the intersection rather than turning left as Jen had expected. “Hey Dad, you missed my turn,” she said.

He shook his head, “No, I didn’t. Your mother and I think it’s best if you come home with us for a few days. The doc said we should observe you and we can’t do that if you’re not living with us. One of us will take you over later to get a few of your things.” 

“You can move into your old room for awhile,” her mother added. “It’ll be like old times.” She turned to look at Jen, smiling somewhat tremulously at her. “I miss having you there.”

Jen nodded. She knew they were concerned but the thought of going home with her parents wasn’t a particularly happy one, for not only would she have preferred being alone but it made her less available should Haer’Dalis show up. 

“Alright,” she said aloud. “But I definitely want to go over later today.” _So I can get my cell phone in case Haery calls._

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Late Eleint - Faerun

Fire lanced through Haer’Dalis’s left shoulder and across his chest as he shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position on the hard pallet. He grimaced, groaning softly and gritting his teeth as he wondered how long it would be before he either recovered sufficiently to be mobile or died of infection. While he truly believed decay and death to be the ultimate goal of everything in the Multiverse he had to admit that the philosophy was much easier to espouse when one was not the focus of it. He didn’t actually have much experience as a patient for he was a fine swordsman and had avoided serious injury for most of his career. As to his current state, he knew he most likely would have evaded the blow this time had he not been distracted by his worries over Jen’s safety. He searched for comfortable spot on the hard mattress, his mind beginning to drift and the bland beige walls of the infirmary giving way to a rather familiar section of hilly forest.

The sword leapt towards him and he slid backwards, his weight going onto his back foot almost automatically in response to Isaea’s lunge. Instinct kept him moving as Isaea lunged at him again and he found himself twisting, turning and trying to disengage but to no avail. The man was quick; he had to give him that. He felt rather than saw Isaea’s blade sliding past his guard. A tree rose up behind, catching him squarely across the back, the force of the impact driving the air out of his lungs and as he struggled to breathe he felt pain blossoming in his left shoulder. 

There was no time to think for Isaea followed, flying towards him with sword going back for a final, killing blow. Desperately he disengaged; ducking with almost mechanical precision to avoid being skewered again. Looking quickly around he spotted Jen standing near the opening and ran towards her; heard himself shouting at her to leave…to go through the conduit…. 

The vision of Jen falling into the portal was suddenly replaced by the more immediate presence of the rather stout monk who had drifted up to examine his bandages, “The bleeding seems to have stopped,” the man murmured as he glanced at Haer’Dalis. “Are you thirsty? You should be; you lost a lot of blood.”

Haer’Dalis nodded, realizing he was indeed quite thirsty. The brother went to a barrel at the far end of the room and scooped out a dipperful of water, then returned, holding the ladle to Haer’Dalis’s lips with one hand and steadying him with the other as he greedily sucked down the cool water. Once he was finished he slumped back onto the rigid mattress in exhaustion. 

“Try to rest,” the monk said. “I’ll be back in a little while with something for you to eat; a bit of broth maybe. It will be sometime before you regain your strength.”

“Wait,” Haer’Dalis croaked. “How did I get here? My…colleague….”

“Your colleagues brought you here two days ago. They too were wounded but unlike you, did not refuse healing. You do remember refusing to allow us to heal you, do you not?” He waited a moment, then satisfied by Haer’Dalis’s brief nod, continued, “Once your friends saw you were in good hands they decided to leave, to return to…Athkalta I believe. They left your things…and money to provide for your care.” He turned, gliding silently out of the room leaving Haer’Dalis alone to continue his painful search for a comfortable position.

Finding one that was at least tolerable, he settled down and as he drifted off to sleep he once again saw Jen standing in front of the portal and felt his heart twist. She hadn’t wanted to go and in fact she’d argued with him - oh she most certainly had - but at least she’d gone through. He smiled, slipping back into sound sleep eased by the certainty that as much as he missed her, she was undoubtedly safe and that he had the hope of following her soon. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Late October - Earth

I’m gonna have to get out and rake leaves soon, Jen thought as she looked out her front window. The wind was blowing gently at the moment but it was likely to pick up soon, bringing down another avalanche of yellow and brown leaves to blanket the yard’s dying vegetation. Normally she enjoyed the shifting seasons, looking forward with eager anticipation to the cooler weather, winter’s holidays and best of all, skiing. However, today the drifting leaves served only to remind her of the passage of time; that it had been several weeks since her return and there had still been no word from or sign of Haer’Dalis. And given the change in seasons, she knew that even if he came through the portal he probably couldn’t reach her for Wizard Island was closed for winter. Her chest tightened; constricted by the sudden tears which rose to her eyes as she thought, _Haery I miss you so much._

She took a swallow of coffee, wiping her eyes and wishing for what seemed like at least the thousandth time, that she’d not come back. _It’s not just Haer’Dalis. I didn’t think I’d miss Faerun but I do. I felt alive there; more connected somehow. And I miss my friends. Beth and Franny are here but now I miss everyone in Faerun, especially Nalia._ Shaking her head, she acknowledged to herself that it was harder to be back than she’d thought possible. 

The past several weeks had been filled with the frequently frustrating tasks of clearing her status as a “missing person,” looking for a job and of course, managing her parents who, although making every effort to be supportive, continued to worry about her stability as evidenced by their daily calls and visits. She’d forced herself into a routine – a morning run with Beth frequently followed by job hunting – a necessity given that her employer had initiated job abandonment proceedings within a few weeks of her disappearance. She’d only now managed to be approved as a substitute teacher at a private school and that was after going through yards of red tape that had included fresh fingerprinting and other security screenings as well as an assessment by a local psychologist. _Even if I’m hired permanently next year, I need something more than substituting right now._

And I don’t know what I’d have done without Beth. They’d been together every day since her return. Beth had even been waiting at her parents’ house for her when she’d arrived thanks to her mother who’d contacted her as they’d pulled off the freeway. Jen had barely managed to get out of the car before she’d found herself wrapped in Beth’s arms. They’d hugged each other enthusiastically, standing in the middle of the driveway until Jen’s parents had shooed them inside. It hadn’t taken long for them to regain their former intimacy and soon Jen found herself sharing confidences with Beth including the fact that she’d planned to bring Haer’Dalis home with her. Reconnecting with Franny, on the other hand, had been far more difficult for she, like many others, viewed Jen cautiously as if she were slightly unhinged.

She'd had to tell her story over and over, including her admission that she couldn't explain or possibly remember how she'd gotten so far away from home; a tale which satisfied no one, including herself. She had told Beth more than most and took comfort in the fact that Beth’s story provided some validation but it was still hard not to tell her parents the complete truth. _Mom and Dad certainly wouldn’t understand and even Beth would be shocked at what I’ve done if she knew everything._ And if that wasn’t enough, she knew blamed herself for Haer’Dalis’s absence although his presence would have been problematic as well as Beth had pointed out in one of their first conversations after her return saying, “Jen, be real. If Haery had come with you, it’s true you might not have asked for help on Wizard Island and gone through that mess, but you still would have had to clear things up with the sheriff’s office and unless you kept him hidden from everyone – and I mean _everyone_ –there’s no way they wouldn’t have found out and interfered somehow.” 

She sighed, remembering how torn she still felt, wanting to be in two places at once. _I did want to come home at least to say good-bye, although if I hadn’t we’d be together and he’d probably still be alive._ The thought crystallized, stunning her into the realization that she truly was beginning to think he was dead. Her eyes went to the leather band about her wrist and she touched the bead, running her fingers over the pattern as another and far more painful thought struck her. She sighed, remembering how torn she still felt, wanting to be in two places at once. _I never told him I loved him. He said it to me, but I never really said the words back. That really sucks._ Her throat ached as her eyes began to stinging again although this time her tears were more angry than sad; frustration at her previous reticence as well as the unfairness of now not having the chance to tell him clearly how she felt.

Rubbing the back of her neck abstractedly she resumed staring out the window. Coffee and misery seemed to have become part of her regular morning routine, making it hard to start the day with any enthusiasm at all although she knew she’d feel better once she got moving. She rose, placing her coffee cup in the sink just as the doorbell rang. She heard the door open and a cheery voice calling to her.

“Morning Jen! Ready to run?”

“I’ll be right there Beth,” she replied and headed towards the door. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Late Marpenoth – Faerun

The normally quiet courtyard was filled with the rhythmic sounds of hooves and the rattle of the iron and wooden wheels typical of merchant trains. Haer’Dalis looked up from his spot on the wooden bench outside the monastery’s infirmary where he sat soaking in the pale rays of Highharvestide sunlight. Although curious as to what sort of merchant would be traveling so far north this late in the year, he was loathe to move from his comfortable spot.

He stretched carefully, pleased to note that he could do so now without pain. For a time he hadn’t been sure that he would survive his wounding. However, he’d been lucky; Isaea’s sword had made a deep slash across his chest before bouncing off his ribs and through his shoulder, coming perilously close to the joint. Now that several weeks had passed, his wounds had healed and he was beginning to use his arm more fully once again. Brother Jamendithas, the healer had him doing daily workouts of Sun Chi – a form of martial arts that strengthened and stretched his muscles without further injury and he hoped to be able to engage in more strenuous workouts with his blades very soon. _Not too much longer before I can follow Jen._ The thought pleased him for he missed her lively presence very much. Abbey life was far too sedate and structured for his tastes and provided little by way of entertainment. He enjoyed reading and gaining new lore and had thought he might explore the abbey library. However, the brothers had not been willing to grant him much access to their materials leaving him few ways outside of meditation or light exercise to occupy his time. He was bored and he knew it. Furthermore he knew it was a condition that was likely to get him into trouble even if he had to create the trouble himself. 

He returned to the infirmary in search of his lute turning around as the door opened and a woman entered. “Are you…?” Her voice faltered as she looked at him and then she went on in a different and somewhat more engaging tone, “No I guess you’re not Brother Jamendithas. But maybe you know where I can find him?” She looked him over, her face and posture softening slightly as she completed her appraisal. 

Haer’Dalis returned her frank gaze, his slight smile of welcome broadening into one of admiration as he considered her in turn for she was quite lovely with dark red hair, creamy skin and green eyes. All thoughts of boredom fled as he looked at her; thoughts of Jen driven to back of his mind by the charming sight in front of him. “At the moment, I’m quite grateful not to be Brother Jamendithas,” he purred. “But perhaps I can still be of use?”

She laughed. “I’m sure you can. But right now, unless you have healing potions and herbs to sell, it’s Brother Jamendithas I need to see.”

“Ah. But perhaps I can help you find him? As you can see, “ Haer’Dalis waved his hand towards a counter on the opposite side of the room, “he left in the midst of making salves. I believe he went to the monastery gardens for some additional ingredients. I could take you there.”

“You could,” she agreed. “Or you could entertain me while I wait for him.” She glanced at the instrument slung over his shoulder. “You’re a bard, are you not?”

“That I am,” he replied and went over to open the door, “And in fact I know of a rather lovely spot where we could sit in the sun.” He bowed gallantly gesturing to her to precede him. “After you milady.” 

Brother Jamendithas returned all too quickly for Haer’Dalis’s tastes for the young woman immediately jumped up saying, “I must go; our healer will be waiting for me to return. But I’ve very much enjoyed this.”

Haer’Dalis also rose, taking her hand and raising it to his lips, “Truly, a most pleasant interlude. But you’ve not yet told me your name, my lovely Linnet.”

She flushed slightly as he pressed her hand but did not pull away, instead drawing her shoulders up and slightly forward in a self-conscious manner, causing the already loose neckline of her blouse to dip down and expose the tops of her breasts. “My name is Meabh.”

He felt certain her movement had been deliberate and his eyes slid down to enjoy her display, then returned to her face. “And mine is Haer’Dalis. Perhaps I’ll see you again before your caravan departs,” he replied letting go of her hand somewhat reluctantly.

She looked at him speculatively for a moment and then said, “Perhaps you’d like to join us for dinner? We’re staying overnight and my partners and I don’t often have the opportunity of such pleasurable entertainment. Your company would delight us and perhaps ours will do the same for you.” Her smile was full of promise as was the look that accompanied it, confirming his feeling that her discomfiture a few moments before had not been the artless gesture it had been intended to seem.

As he nodded his acceptance an odd feeling of discomfort came over him; a squirming sensation that stayed with him as he watched her walk away. 

Haer’Dalis turned to see Brother Jamendithas looking at him, a quizzical smile playing across his lips. He had clearly been watching the exchange and for some inexplicable reason Haer’Dalis found himself flushing slightly. He couldn’t recall the last time he had been embarrassed – his last such memory was from when he was very young, but under the monk’s knowing gaze he found himself growing warm, and what was even more puzzling to him, somewhat angry with himself.

“Good thing your lady wasn’t here to see that last bit,” Brother Jamendithas finally said in a placid tone. His face and voice were both calm as if he were commenting on the weather. 

“My lady?” Haer’Dalis asked blankly. He felt certain the cleric meant Jen but he was hard pressed to understand how the man knew about her. 

“Yes,” Brother Jamendithas replied. “You were in my infirmary for a couple of days before you awakened and even though you weren’t quite conscious, you were clearly talking to a woman and telling her you loved her.”

“I see,” he replied stiffly. For once in his rather glib career he found himself loss for words. _Jen would certainly understand that I was only attempting to alleviate boredom. Or would she? He remembered his words to her – his promise – on the first night they’d made love, I have many qualities, but constancy has not been amongst them. However, for your sake, I shall strive to make it so._ The thought was followed almost instantly by the memory of Jen’s introduction to Aerie. Although she’d handled herself well enough and had been accepting enough in the end, she clearly hadn’t enjoyed it. He felt himself flush as the monk continued to eye him cooly. 

“Twas nothing,” he snapped defensively as much at Jen as at Brother Jamendithias. “A bit of entertainment to alleviate the tedium of convalescence. It does not affect my feelings in the slightest.” He turned and walked away, heading towards the abbey’s extensive gardens, leaving the monk staring thoughtfully after him. 

The abbey’s garden lay hidden behind a high stone wall providing considerable privacy for those desiring a quiet space for contemplation. Although Haer’Dalis hadn’t intended to go there, his feet had taken him through the monastery’s walkways and across the gravel yard until he found himself standing in front of the entrance. He stood in front of the gate trying to determine whether he wanted to enter its quiet seclusion or seek more convivial company. Given that the monastery provided few options for entertainment, it was hardly likely that much hospitality could be found; unless of course he was to seek out Meabh. The thought was accompanied by another round of the unfamiliar and very uncomfortable squirming feeling that he was beginning to suspect was a twinge of conscience, so he decided the garden was the best option. Pulling open the wooden gate, he slipped inside, choosing a path along the garden’s north side and proceeding down a gravel walkway interspersed with sections of wooden planks as he tried to rid himself of the strong, uncomfortable and rather unfamiliar feelings that continued to gnaw at him. 

Much as he missed Jen, there had been a few moments during his earlier flirtation with Meabh when he’d found himself remembering and even missing his old self; the Doomguard whose fatalistic acceptance of the efficacy and inevitability of chaos, decay and eventual annihilation had allowed him to flit between events and lovers without thought or regret. His life experience had taught him full well the futility of connection so instead he’d comforted himself with constant change. The philosophy had served him admirably for it had often kept him from feeling the pain of rejection if giving him none of the benefits of being truly loved. 

He sighed and continued walking, trying to divert himself by focusing on the physical sensation of each step, the feeling of legs and feet tensing as he lifted them followed by a slight vibration as they touched the ground once again. Within a few paces he found himself stepping rhythmically. The cadence was soothing and somehow seemed to create space for thought. He became aware as he had earlier of how much he missed Jen’s presence. It had been easy to be with her for she’d accepted him for who he was without reservation. It had been a unique experience to one who had been taught from his earliest years to remain alert to the constant suspicion, assumptions and hatred of others; an awareness that had taught him to protect and care for himself. _I watch my own back._

But he hadn’t needed to watch his back with Jen and that had left him vulnerable to her in a way he hadn’t thought possible for as their relationship had developed and changed from attraction to passion, he’d found his feelings growing and deepening; found himself becoming attached to her. That had surprised him for he had long been expert at portraying emotions while maintaining distance from the feelings themselves. 

Rounding a bend in the path, he caught sight of a small wooden bench placed next to a small pond. Something about the setting reminded him of Nanny Bea’s small garden in Athkatla. The memory brought with it an additional recollection of the first of his many promises to Jen. _Although truly in the beginning, I was quite willing to make promises I didn’t intend to keep._ The very real possibility that without the collusion of circumstance, he might have never had the opportunity to experience another being in the way he had Jen disturbed him and he resolutely pushed it away. 

_And what if I can’t find her again after all this? _He did have information along with the rather strange instrument she’d left with him as an aid. He also knew himself to be quite resourceful but the thought of being in a world where magic was replaced by machines was a bit daunting, leaving him wishing once again albeit briefly, for the simplicity of his old life.__

He continued to walk and think as more memories floated to the surface. He was an actor and conversation was his way, yet he knew he’d never reassured or made quite so many promises to another as he had to Jen. _I followed to bring you back for I knew then I could not let you go, perhaps as much for my sake as yours. Know that I have never done such a thing before and did not believe until now that I could ever be willing to do so much for anyone, he'd told her. ___

Sighing, he reminded himself that feelings were transient things and that if he chose, he could simply accept their inevitable ending.

Another memory, this time of the Lady of Pain forcing him to acknowledge his actions for what they were; an attempt to reconcile his belief in the inevitability of death with his desire for Jen to live, floated into consciousness. He’d told The Lady he’d acted out of love. She’d laughed; telling him that his behavior was ‘nauseatingly sentimental,’ but she’d also warned him. _Change allows you to keep your treasure. Fail to learn and it is lost forever._

_The Lady was right. I am being sentimental. Still, he knew his feelings really hadn’t changed. I do love Jen. He knew it had been a conscious choice – oh not initially, but certainly by the time the Lady had confronted him – to go with his heart and truly, he had no real regrets. _Still, ‘tis easy enough to fall back into old habits when one is bored. Clearly the solution is to follow Jen sooner than later._ _

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next morning he watched as Meabh’s caravan rolled through the monastery gates, heading towards Beregost. She’d done her best the previous evening to continue their flirtation and expand it to something more but strengthened by his earlier deliberations, he’d resisted temptation, responding to her pleasantly without succumbing to her overtures. Being no fool, Meabh had seemed to understand fairly quickly that while he was not immune to her rather copious charms his heart was engaged elsewhere for she’d accepted his rebuff with good grace, merely commenting that the lady who had gained his attention was fortunate to have so devout a lover.


	53. Intervals - Part II

Mid-November – Earth

Jen pulled the pumpkin cheesecake out of the oven and set it on the counter. “There, that’s done!” she said, glancing at Beth who was sitting at the kitchen table flipping through a magazine. “I’ll let that cool a few minutes before I put it in the refrigerator and then we can go for our run.” 

Beth nodded, her eyes remaining glued to the magazine. Jen glanced over her shoulder to see she was looking at an attractive black and white dress, clearly intended to be worn in the evening. “Planning for New Year’s Eve already?” 

“I like having an idea of what I’m looking for before I start shopping,” Beth replied placidly. “You know that. Adam is already talking about wanting to go out this year for New Year’s. I hope you’ll come too. I’d like to have all of us – you, me, Franny together, just like always. And I know Ryan will come, especially if you’re there.”

“We’ll see,” Jen said, dropping into the chair beside her. “We haven’t even made it to Thanksgiving yet; let me get through one holiday at a time.” While she wasn’t adverse to the idea, she was reluctant to make plans for anything too far in advance, particularly plans that would encourage Ryan. He’d been cautious after she’d reappeared but eventually had become friendly again and now seemed determined to pick up where they had left off. She’d been holding him off for a while; had even gone so far as to tell him there had been someone else but after more than a month had passed without Jen’s bringing anyone forward, he’d taken it as a propitious sign and resumed his pursuit. _It’s almost as if he’s been reading too many bad romance novels where the man’s persistence – even when made clear that serious attentions were unwelcome – finally pays off. But if he expects me to fall into his arms; he’s got another think coming!_ “You know we’d only started to go out before I…went through the…uh…portal.” 

Beth shook her head as she finally looked up from her magazine. “Jen, I know you’re upset that your…that Harry…hasn’t shown up, but do you really think he’s going to? I hate being pessimistic, but it seems to me that if he was going to come here, he’d have done it by now. How much longer are you going to wait before you go on with your life?”

“I don’t know. And I have gone on with my life; just not that part of it yet.” Frowning slightly she added, “I don’t see why everyone’s so eager for me to start dating Ryan. Well…that’s not quite true. I suspect my parents think it would be a sign that I’m returning to ‘normal’.”

“Probably,” Beth agreed. “Look,” she continued in a sympathetic tone, “it’s your life and I know this hasn’t been easy for you. But it’s been a good two months and every morning when I show up for our run, you’re moping. I just want you to be happy, that’s all.”

Jen nodded. “I know, but I’ll be fine. Really. I’m just not ready to move on yet. As you say, it’s only been two months. That’s not exactly a long time.” Her mornings still began with coffee but for all Beth’s claims of her moping, she knew she was less tearful; her feelings over Haer’Dalis’s continued absence making their presence known largely through the dull knot which formed in her chest whenever she thought of him as she was now. After her initial shock and denial about his non-appearance, she’d gotten angry at herself and the gods – whomever and whatever they were - for separating them from each other. She’d spent days trying to figure out how she might go back to Faerun and look for him, knowing that it was impossible without the portal stone. Although she hadn’t stopped hoping that he would suddenly appear on her doorstep, she realized she was no longer expecting it. 

“So, how’s work going?” Beth asked, turning another page of the catalog. “Any word on whether St. Johns Prep is going to pick you up permanently yet?”

“No,” Jen replied. “But it’s far too early for them to say anything. I don’t expect to hear until spring. But I’ve picked up three more tutoring jobs which helps.” She rose to her feet. “I’m going to go get ready for our run. I”ll be back in a moment.” As she left the room, she thought once again about Haer’Dalis. _If nothing else, I’d just like to know what happened._

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Mid-Uktar - Faerun

The morning sky was overcast and grey and a cool wind was blowing as Haer’Dalis left the Shining Hand monastery. The seasons had begun to change and the ground was wet and slippery with fallen leaves damp from recent rains making his trek more difficult. He persevered however and within a few hours had reached the general vicinity of the portal. He surveyed the site, noting that evidence of the battle with Isaea’s company and the werewolves still remained in the form of rotting corpses and scattered belongings. _A fitting end for Isaea. Gone and certainly not mourned._ It took little time to engage the stone and open the conduit and he did so, stepping through eagerly.

A blast of cold air struck him as his feet hit the ground and he shivered. Glancing about, he saw that the hillside on which he was standing was blanketed by several inches of snow. Dumping his pack on the ground, he dug through it to find warmer clothing and – remembering Jen’s warnings – stow his armor and swords, while wondering how close Earth’s seasons were to Faerun’s. 

When he eventually took stock of his surroundings, he found that was standing just in front of two trees which had grown together forming an archway not unlike the portal entrance in Faerun. Uphill was a large outcropping of rock, also lightly dusted with snow while downhill, and in the distance, he could see water. He picked up his pack, slinging it over his shoulders and headed towards it, eventually realizing that he was on an established path. Upon reaching the bottom he found a sign, making out the words with some difficulty for although the words were familiar, the sign’s lettering was pointed and angular; devoid of the flourishes that characterized Faerunian lettering. After a few minutes he made out the words which appeared to indicate a destination as well as the distance to the location. 

Although unsure of what a “ranger station” might be or what measurement constituted a mile, he continued down the trail finally reaching a set of heavily shuttered buildings. They appeared to be empty and, after trying doors on each one, apparently locked. Although it was warmer near the water than it had been on the hillside, he still felt the cold sinking into his bones and knew he needed to warm himself before continuing his search. Selecting one of the doors, he concentrated and then attempted to open it. A few particles of light glowed briefly about his fingertips but the door remained locked. Still the presence of the tiny motes indicated the existence of _some_ magical energy. 

Several attempts later the door was still locked but he had succeeded in weakening the latch enough to be able to force it. _This may well be a closed world for it seems that the pockets of magic that remain do have limits._ The door creaked open and he poked his head in, looking around cautiously but saw no signs of life, so he went in, finding himself in a large room that looked much like a Faerunian shop with a counter running lengthwise across it. But that was where the similarity ended for behind the counter were only a series of empty wooden desks holding stacked, shallow baskets in dull colors and an unfamiliar device with a thick band of spongy wire sprouting from one end. He examined it curiously, lifting it up to look at it closely. The face of the instrument had a small block of numbers and a handle of some kind sat loosely in a cradle across its top. He touched the handle, lifting one side of it slightly and then putting it down. _Looks like one of the machines Jen described._ He pulled her note out of his pocket, putting it on the table in front of him to look carefully through her drawings, moving past sketches of odd-looking horseless vehicles or 'cahrs' as she’d named them – _such a harsh, ugly word_ \- until he spotted the picture of the thing she’d called a ‘fone.’ Although the square blocky shape was differed from the one in her drawing, the device _did_ have a handset that looked somewhat similar. _‘If we’re separated I want you to call me, she’d said. Tis strange to think an instrument like this could allow me to talk with people far away. Still, if it allows me to reach her…._

He looked at it for a few more moments, unsure of how to proceed and then prompted by both a longing to hear Jen’s voice and his usual curiosity he lifted the receiver. Sound came out – a slight buzz which turned to beeping - the noise shrill and jarring in the room’s empty stillness. He put it back in the cradle and reached for Jen’s note, studying it carefully before picking the phone up again and pushing the buttons that matched the symbols on the paper. This time, he heard several clicks and then a strangely accented voice that was not Jen came out of the instrument, _“Call not completed as dialed. Invalid access code. Please hang up and try again.”_ Puzzled he looked at the paper in his hand. He was sure he’d entered the information exactly the way she had written it. He tried again but the response was the same and after a few more tries he gave up, dropping the instrument back in its cradle with a grunt of frustration. 

Turning, he began to look around the room, seeing that the room’s walls held a series of pictures; some were of places, objects or vistas, but others were of people – males largely although some of the newer looking ones included both sexes, dressed in uniforms consisting of baggy pants in a style similar to the hiking pants Jen had been wearing upon her arrival in Faerun, close-fitting shirts, short jackets and wide brimmed hats. He peered at the pictures, studying them thoroughly, noting with surprise and a rather fascinated delight that they were in fact, not paintings but something entirely different. Several had no color as if all life had faded from them but others appeared almost living. He continued to stare at them, half expecting the images to begin moving and talking but the beings remained still and silent in their frames. They looked much like the humans he’d seen on other worlds, although with far less variation in skin, hair and eye color. _Jen was right,_ he thought in some surprise. _In a world of only humans, I will stand out._ He thoughtfully touched his own face and ears then put down his pack to pull out the Hat of Disguise. _‘Twill serve as a cover even if the magic fails._

Eventually he left the room to walk around outside and soon located a large empty dock with long walkways running down to the water noting several large signs directing visitors to a variety of locations or at least he assumed so given that most included not only words but large arrows. He wandered down the one of the walkways and as he drew closer to a section which had obviously served to dock a large vessel he saw another of the ubiquitous signs. After puzzling for several moments, he finally read, _Wizard Island Closed, November – April._ Although he knew Wizard Island to be the location, the last two words were unfamiliar. _Perhaps they mean something about time. Or the season; they could be months much like Eleint or Uktar._

He left the dock, walking along the shoreline hoping to find a means of traversing the water but found nothing. Finding a vantage point on a rock partway up a small hill he peered towards the mainland noting a similar dock and another series of buildings at some distance away across the lake but could see no signs of life either on the lake or on land. Disappointment washed over him, as he realized his dilemma. There seemed to be no way off the island except perhaps to swim and that wasn’t feasible for many reasons. The docks and shoreline were empty of boats and while he knew himself to possess a great many skills, building boats and swimming weren’t amongst them. Even if they had been, the mainland was too great a distance away and the water choppy and most likely too chilly. He spent several more hours exploring the island, hoping to come up with a solution but none presented itself. Finally, cold, tired and discouraged he made his way back up the hill to the portal. If he assumed that Earth’s calendar was similar to Faerun’s then it would be approximately six months before life returned to the island. _Six months./ _The thought of having coming so far and leaving again without finding Jen was frustrating. However, he had ever been a practical soul. _If I can’t get to Jen, I’ll return to Tristan at least until spring. ‘Twill make time pass more quickly.__ He opened the conduit once again, taking a last look around before stepping inside. _

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
January - Earth

The thin but steady stream of cold air blowing into her nostrils dragged her back into consciousness. She wanted to make it stop but it was difficult to move for she was exhausted and her arm and hand felt so very heavy. After several attempts she succeeded in reaching her face; finding that in fact the air was coming from a tiny hose stretched across it. Her triumph was short-lived as a hand – not hers – reached over and gently fit the slim tube back into place across her nostrils. She reached up again but this time the strange hand took hers, restraining it gently and a melodious tenor voice said, “It’s ok. Leave the cannula in. You need the oxygen.” Her hand was placed on her stomach with a soothing pat. “Go back to sleep, my dear. You’re going to be fine.”

The voice sounded familiar. As if she’d heard it before. _Haery? Is that you?_ A feeling of warmth and comfort flowed through her as she drifted back into oblivion. 

When she woke up sometime later – she wasn’t sure how much later – the hose with its irritating flow of air still lay across her face but this time when she pushed it away there was no one there to put it back. She looked around somewhat groggily and as her eyes took in her rather sterile and utilitarian surroundings she realized she was in a hospital room. _What the hell? How did I get here?_ She’d gone with her parents to a family reunion of sorts, renting a large multi-storied house in the mountains where they’d been joined by her Aunt June – her father’s sister - and her family for a couple days of skiing and playing in the snow. She pondered for a moment, trying to go think back but last thing she remembered before waking up was getting in the car with her parents. _We were on our way home._

Her heart began pounding anxiously as she began to wonder what had happened – what she was doing in hospital - and she looked towards the nightstand. _No buzzer. But I couldn’t reach it anyway._ Then she realized the missing buzzer was on the bed, its cord stretching back past her head. It took effort to make her arm move, to reach for it but once it was in her hand she pushed the call button frantically and within a couple of minutes a nurse appeared

“I see you’re awake!” the woman said cheerfully as she entered the room. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know. Things are little…fuzzy. Where am I and where are my parents?” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded weak and rather anxious.

The nurse smiled reassuringly. “You’re in Masterson Memorial Hospital. You were in an accident but you’re going to be fine.” She reached for Jen’s chart and looked at it a moment before coming over to take her pulse.

Jen was dying to ask about Haer’Dalis but waited until the nurse was finished before asking, “There was a man here earlier. Where is he?”

“A man?” A thoughtful look crossed the woman’s face. “You must mean Bryan Bailey. He was one of the nurses on duty last night,” the woman replied. “There’s been no one else here.” Jen stared at her, her face crumpling as she fought back tears. Not Haery. “Oh she said, in a small voice, “I thought…that is, the voice sounded familiar. But I guess not.” 

“You’ve suffered a concussion,” the nurse replied, “Head injuries make it easy to imagine things.”

_“Where are my parents?”_

The nurse glanced at her but didn’t answer, saying instead, “Your doctor should be here shortly, let me see if she’s available.” She left the room hurriedly and did not return. Jen pushed the annoying air hose away from her nostrils once again and reached for the bed controls. The movement left her head spinning slightly and she lay back, clutching the controls to her chest and waiting for her dizziness to subside before raising the bed slightly so she could look around. The room was moderately large and held multiple beds judging by the number of curtain tracks she could see through the clear plastic at the top of the one screening her own bed. In front and slightly to the left she could see a pair of large doors presumably opening into a corridor. To the right of the doors, she could see a long, rectangular window opening onto some type of work area. Two nurses were moving around inside, occasionally glancing into the room where Jen lay. Neither came into the room although she could hear murmuring and catch an occasional word. An hour went by and more nurses arrived and the two who had been on duty left as the words 'shift change' popped into her mind. The thought proved valid for soon after another nurse – a male this time, came into the room. “So, I see you’re awake,” he said, smiling at her. “That’s good. How are you feeling?”

“I have a slight headache and get dizzy if I turn my head too fast. I feel a little weak but otherwise ok,” Jen replied. “And this is annoying.” She pointed to the hose lying across the top of her head. “I don’t need it.”

“No,” the man agreed, “not if you’re awake and breathing normally without it.” He reached behind her for a moment and then straightened, removing the offending line. 

“I’m trying to find out where my parents are. The last nurse that was in here didn’t seem to know; just said something about getting the doctor. I’ve been waiting for at least an hour and the doctor hasn’t come in.”

“Rounds don’t start until 9:00 a.m. Your doctor should be by before too much longer.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s 8:35 a.m. now.”

She nodded, “Is there any way I can find out where my parents are before the doctor arrives?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he replied. “In the meantime, can I get you anything?”

“Some apple juice would be nice. I don’t feel like eating.”

“No,” he agreed, “you probably don’t. Most of what we’d be giving you would be broth or soft foods until you’ve had a little more time to recover. Ok, I’ll get you some juice and see what I can find out.” 

He went back into the station where she could see him looking through files before going to the computer after which he disappeared. He returned a few minutes later with the juice, helping her to take a few sips. “Your aunt and uncle are here and will be in to see you shortly and your doctor’s making rounds now,” he told her. 

His statement proved correct for his exit was followed shortly by the arrival of the doctor, a thin woman whose youthful appearance contrasted with the streaks of gray in her hair. “Good to see you’re awake, Ms…” she stopped to consult the chart hanging on the end of the bed. “Ms. Griffith. Now let’s take a look at you and then I’ll answer your questions.” She did a quick examination and then came to stand by Jen’s side, looking at her. 

“Where are my parents?” 

The doctor’s face softened, taking on a look of compassion. “As you’ve probably realized, you were in an accident. Your mother is here in the hospital. You were both injured but are going to be fine. Now that you’re conscious we can start thinking about when to move you into your own room. If you’d like to be with your mother, it can be arranged.”

“And my father? Where is he?” 

The doctor shook her head. “I’m sorry, Ms. Griffith. Your father isn’t here.”

Her sluggish brain heard the words, absorbing them slowly. _Not here. What does that mean?_ She tried to formulate a question and ask what the doctor meant but her sluggish mind refused t cooperate. Then she remembered the nurse saying her aunt and uncle were at the hospital. _Maybe they know._ She peered at the doctor, “Can I see my aunt and uncle? 

The woman nodded, “Yes, you can see them for a few minutes. I’ll be back to check on you later this afternoon.” She smiled at Jen and left the room, followed by the nurse. 

Jen lay back, feeling suddenly exhausted. It was impossible to keep her eyes open even though she very much wanted to see her relatives and she found herself drifting off despite her best efforts to stay awake. When she woke a short time later, her aunt was standing next to her. Her aunt’s face look tired and puffy and her eyes were red as if she’d been crying. 

“Auntie June,” Jen whispered. “I’m glad you’re here.” Her aunt smiled and reached out to take her hand, squeezing it gently. “Do you know where Dad is?”

Her aunt’s face froze, her eyes filling with tears. “Oh Jen, I’m so sorry….”


	54. Home is Where the Heart Is - Part I

_May – Earth_

Jen pulled into her driveway, sighing with relief as she turned off the engine. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back against the headrest, glad to be home. Her shoulders and neck ached and she reached back, hearing popping noises as she rubbed at them. It had been a long day. 

It was unusually warm, even for late spring, and the car’s interior was becoming uncomfortably hot, so she picked up her purse and a small box of photos from the passenger seat and got out. One of the pictures caught her eye as she shut the door and she reached for it, balancing the box against her midriff as she examined the photograph. _I don’t remember putting this one in here; must’ve been Mom’s doing._

The picture had taken in front of her family’s home. In the photo, her parents looked relaxed and considerably younger; their hair untouched by grey and their faces largely unlined. She, Ronnie and three of their cousins stood in front of the adults. She’d been 10 years old and in high spirits judging by the broad grin on her face. Her cousin Celeste was next to her in the photo. They’d spent the day playing hard - swimming and tearing about the neighborhood chasing Ronnie and Celeste’s brothers Chris and Matthew. A good memory. Her eyes lingered on the house in the photo- a comfortable looking brown shingle. Her mother was planning to sell it; a fact that left Jen feeling mildly uncomfortable although she understood her mother’s reasoning – that the house now held too many ghosts.

And in fact, Jen could empathize with her mother’s feelings. The four months since her father’s death had been difficult as she’d struggled to maintain her own sanity in the face of yet another loss while trying to support and comfort her grieving mother; a challenge under any circumstances but made considerably more difficult in a house filled with tangible reminders of her father’s presence. In the months following his death she’d offered to help her mother pack away some of the most obvious items but had been refused so her father’s jacket still hung from a hook near the front door, his clothes were still in the closet in her parents’ room and his home office remained as he’d left it. _No I really don’t blame Mom for wanting to sell the house. Maybe it’s what’s finally allowing her to go through Dad’s things._

Placing the snapshot gently back in the box, she headed towards her own front door. Her footsteps, muffled drumbeats against the entryway tile, echoed loudly; the sound bringing with it a realization of how lonely and empty the space felt. _It would be so nice to have someone greet me when I came home. Perhaps it’s time to get a dog or a cat. Or both. _The house was quiet - too quiet, in fact - so she hurried into the living room, dumping her purse onto the coffee table along with the photo box and turning on the television for company. She felt grimy; sorting through old photos and boxes had been dusty work, so she left the TV on and dashed upstairs to shower and change into a pair of shorts and loose t-shirt.__

Clean and refreshed, she headed back downstairs, going first to the kitchen to pour a glass of iced tea and then into the living room to flop onto the couch, reaching out to pick up the TV remote and surf through the channels. The box of photos, left on the coffee table in her haste to go upstairs, caught her eye; their presence reminding her of the earlier conversation with her mother.

“I think I’ve decided what I’m going to do after I sell the house,” her mother had said as they’d worked their way through the numerous boxes of photos pulled out of the storage closet. Jen’s stomach tightened at the memory. She'd known by mother's tone and earnest, pleading expression that she wasn’t going to like her mother's news. “I’ve decided to go back to Seattle,” her mother had continued, “Susan and Greg both suggested it when I said I didn’t know how I could stay in Althea and I think they’re right. And your Gran isn’t getting any younger; I can help them look after her.” Jen knew her mother’s sister and brother had often hoped the family would move back to the northwest so their suggestion didn’t come as a complete shock although she did feel mildly surprised at her mother’s ready agreement. 

“B-but what about your friends and life here?” she’d stammered. She'd smiled - a weak effort which clearly hadn't masked her sense of shocked surprise for her mother had patted her arm soothingly. “I’m not getting any younger Jenny and at my age, family is important. With both Ronnie and your father gone, there’s not much left for me here other than you. And as much as I love you, I can’t ask you to keep focusing on me. You need a life of your own and a chance to find someone and build your own family. I do want grandkids you know. On the other hand I’ve been thinking it might be good for you to move there as well. That way we’d all be together – you, me, your aunt and uncle and their families…. A fresh start might not be a bad thing. What do you think? ” 

“I don’t know Mom. It’s pretty sudden. I’ll have to think about it,” she’d replied. _But I truly don’t know. I don’t really want to leave but with Mom going, there won’t be much to keep me here either._

Sound blared out of the television, the suddenly heightened volume causing her to startle. She glanced at the screen to see a rather abashed looking green lizard holding a bag of chips and flipped past the commercial with an impatient sigh. There really wasn’t much on in the late afternoon other than re-runs, old movies and of course, news, none of which was of interest. She disliked news broadcasts for she was tired of stories primarily about loss, destruction and death – _although if Haery were here he would probably love it; entropy in action._ She ignored the rather familiar tightening in her chest, continuing to flip through yet more channels before deciding there really was nothing to watch. 

Jumping to her feet she circled the room, searching for something to distract her and drive away the circling thoughts. The idea of sitting outside appealed to her now that she felt cleaner and cooler so she grabbed a book off her desk and picked up her tea. The neighborhood was bustling with the kinds of activities typical of a warm spring weekend – car washing, yard work, and kids riding bicycles; the sounds comforting and friendly. Her next door neighbor, busily trimming the hedge that joined their yards, caught sight of her as she came onto the porch and stopped for a moment to wave. Jen waved back, calling out “Hello Marie!” before settling into a comfortable porch chair. 

She opened her book, the first in a new series she’d found, and began reading, becoming so immersed in the story that she soon stopped hearing the sound of her neighbor’s hedge clippers or the kids playing in the street. She read several chapters, her tea forgotten until the slight squealing of car tires followed by the slam of a car door briefly drew her attention. A somewhat worn looking late model Honda had stopped across the street, its engine running as the driver leaned across the passenger seat in conversation with someone she couldn’t see. _Probably one of Marie’s teens. _She picked up her glass to swallow a mouthful of tea before going back to her book, reading a few more sentences before the sound of her own front gate being opened interrupted again. Looking up, she saw a man coming up the walk, a broad smile stretching across his face as he noticed her looking at him. Puzzled at first, she stared back at him blankly and then stiffened in disbelief, for although his hair was short and dark under an unfamiliar cap and his face free of markings, she suddenly recognized him.__

“Oh my God! Haery??” Jen didn’t notice her book tumbling to the ground as she sprang out of the chair or see Haer’Dalis drop his pack as he flew up the steps towards her but somehow they were in each other’s arms, their lips meeting in a kiss that grew in hungry intensity as they clung to each other. She had no idea how long they remained locked together but eventually she began feeling eyes on her, reminding her that her porch was in fact, a rather public place. She pulled back slightly and found that the oddly creepy feeling of watching eyes was in fact a reality for her neighbor, Marie, was staring across the hedge, astonishment written clearly across her face. As the woman realized Jen was looking at her, she dropped her eyes and hastily turned away. 

“I think we’ve…um…shocked my neighbor,” Jen murmured. 

Haer’Dalis chuckled, “Best go inside then for ‘tis certain if we stay here we’ll scandalize her entirely.” She nodded, leaving his arms reluctantly as she went to her front door, gesturing for him pick up his pack and come with her. Once inside, he followed her into the living room, looking around with interest. The house now seemed alive. Light streamed in through the front window, warming it and creating a path towards the couch. “So what do you think?” she asked. Even as the words left her mouth she realized how inane they sounded in the face of his unexpected appearance but suddenly she didn’t know where to begin. 

“Very nice,” he replied smiling down at her, “so you live alone?”

“I do; no worries of a housemate barging in.” 

He nodded, his eyes going to the book case and lingering on a large framed photograph of Beth, Adam, Ryan and herself. It had been taken on New Year’s Eve. She’d spent the day with her parents and when the others arrived to pick her up her father had insisted on memorializing the moment, presenting the framed photograph to her only a week before his death. “Friends,” she said quickly. “Those are just friends.” 

“‘Twas not a concern, my love,” he replied. “I doubt you’d have greeted me as enthusiastically if you’d replaced me.” He put his pack down, reaching out to pull her close and kiss her once again. It felt right; more so that talking and she pressed against him, focused on the feeling of his arms around her; of his _realness._ Her hands moved up and around his neck, stopping as they encountered the edge of his cap and she pulled it off, running her fingers through his hair which felt different; coarser. Startled, she broke off the kiss to look up at him.

“What happened to your hair?”

He grinned down at her. “I told you that I had no need of magic to disguise myself, did I not? ’Tis but a wig.” he took it off along with the thin net cap underneath, dropping both onto the top of his pack. His own, longer hair, released from captivity, fell about his shoulders, the beads in it clinking softly. “As to the rest…” he shrugged, “stage makeup. I haven’t always had a Hat of Disguise to use which is fortunate given that magic appears limited here.”

“A fair point. I’m sorry I doubted you,” she replied with a soft laugh contradicted by the tears rising suddenly to her eyes. “About anything actually…I mean just the fact that you made it here….” 

His face softened with understanding and his voice was tender as he said, “My lovely Kestrel. ‘Tis glorious to have found you again.”

“I almost can’t believe you’re here,” she replied softly, finding her voice. “After all this time…I thought it impossible.”

“In dreams and in love there are no impossibilities,*" he replied. She placed her hand on his cheek and he covered it with his own, before drawing it to his lips, his thumb tracing a gentle pattern over its back. With anyone else Jen knew she might have found such romantic expression unnatural or even a bit silly but Haer’Dalis was different; his movements were instinctively graceful and his manner unaffected. His touch sent a frisson of tingling heat racing through her and as he began slowly kissing each finger on the hand held in his own, she felt her breath quicken. “Shall we take your pack upstairs?” 

“With pleasure, my love,” he replied. 

He followed her up the stairs both stopping as they entered the room, seeming to need to take in the reality of the other yet again. Jen found herself gazing at Haer’Dalis as if she’d not seen him before, although in truth it had been many months. Her eyes roamed over him, noting how the leather pants and soft shirt he wore did nothing to disguise the muscles beneath. He was...well, beautiful. Oh not by conventional standards, for his looks – the long bluish hair, gently furled ears and markings on his skin were far too exotic but still he was striking. And when seen through the eyes of love; well, he looked simply delicious. He gazed back intently, the tender warmth of his expression leaving her flushed and slightly dazed. 

“Haery,” she began. Sweet warmth filled her chest, flooding it. The feeling grew, moving into her throat and blocking speech, leaving only her eyes to communicate her own feelings of love and desire. Smiling, he drew her closer, his expression fervent as he quoted softly, “As in the soft and sweet eclipse, when soul meets soul on lovers’ lips, high hearts are calm, and brightest eyes are dull; So when thy shadow falls on me, then I am mute and still, by thee covered; of thy love.* ”

No verbal response to such beautiful words came to mind so she simply followed her instincts, reaching out in turn to hold him close, her hands stroking the muscles of his back and hips as she began sliding slowing downwards. He caught her however before she could follow through, murmuring, “Slowly love. It has been so long. I would have this last.” 

She nodded and taking a breath, reached out to unbutton his shirt; gently touching the firm skin beneath with its glowing whorls of color, taking pleasure in the reality of his warm presence and forced herself to slow down as she continued to undress him, her fingers moving to the fastenings on his pants which she found, for once, undid easily. Soon he was free of them along with his smallclothes. The sight made her catch her breath again followed by a very brief moment of insecurity in which she questioned her own appeal.

Her answer came soon enough for he followed her example, unhurriedly relieving her of clothes, tossing each item aside as soon as it was free and following each unveiling with a trail of kisses. As he finished, he stood back to look at her with such evident enjoyment that she flushed again. He reached out a hand, sweeping away an errant strand of hair, his fingers tracing the color down her cheeks before coming to rest under her chin as he drew her face towards him, brushing the corner of her mouth with his lips as his free hand began moved downwards, mapping her contours. His breath was warm against her ear, sending shivers of pleasure down her spine and she felt herself beginning to resonate under his skilled fingers. Burying her own fingers in the silky softness of his hair, she began to nuzzle him in return, slowly breathing in the warm, slightly smoky scent of his skin, relishing it as one would a campfire on a chilly night. _Oh gods Haery, I’ve missed you so,_ she thought as his hands and lips sent yet another delicious pulsing wave of heat sweeping through her.

Her own hands and mouth were busy as she continued to reacquaint herself with his body, feeling the firm muscles of his chest and the sleek smoothness of his skin beneath her fingertips. She closed her eyes to better ‘see’ him through her other senses, stopping as she encountered an unfamiliar, heavy ridge of scar just below his left shoulder. _A souvenir from Isaea?_ Her heart, already beating rapidly, began thumping erratically as she realized how very close death had come. Pushing the unpleasant thought aside, she redoubled her efforts to simply show him in every way she could how glad she was to see him and how very much she loved him. This time he did not stop her as she slowly moved downwards but instead began to groan appreciatively under the dexterous assault of fingers, mouth and tongue. 

Eventually however, he drew her to her feet, holding her close and murmuring, “I love you.” As she smiled up at him, he added, “‘tis true, Jen and those three words have my life in them.*” His mouth covered hers and then began tracing a rather mesmerizing pattern over her face and neck, his fingers stroking her in places and in ways that made it increasingly difficult to think of anything except perhaps wanting more. She moved eagerly against him, responding to his ministrations, groaning as his lips returned to her face. “Haery…”

He ignored her or at least ignored her attempts to urge him to greater speed although she knew from the sounds of his increasingly ragged breathing and the hardness pressed against her that he was no less eager, although perhaps more disciplined in satiating his appetites. Frustrated, she rubbed herself against him for as much as she understood the desire to slowly savor what had been denied them both for so long, it was impossible to still the pounding of her heart or her longing to feel him inside her. All she felt was need, tugging at her; pulling at her; urging the quickening blaze within to explode in fiery conflagration. Her breath caught in her throat and she opened her eyes long enough to see him smiling as she bit her lower lip, trying to stop moan of frustration building inside. It escaped from between her clenched teeth nonetheless. “God, Haery…please.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers in his hair pulling his face towards hers. He smiled at her eagerness, holding her gaze for a long moment before finally relenting to capture her mouth in a lingering kiss.

The result was much like the ignition of dry tinder for excitement surged through her like wildfire; smoldering at first and then growing into a scorching, blazing heat that could only be put out by one thing. She was sure he felt it as well for their bodies hummed with energy; each touch, each taste drawing sparks that left no room for anything but a desire for _more_. Her eyes caught and held his as she moved away to slide onto the bed. He understood the invitation perfectly and took his place beside her, drawing her back into his arms, his mouth eagerly seeking hers once again. Even so, he refused to hurry, so they continued to make love slowly, savoring each touch and each caress; enjoying the tantalizing process of relearning the mysteries of what felt right or even more than right to the other until at last the building conflagration consumed them and they relinquished themselves to release before collapsing, sweetly exhausted onto the pillows where they lay tangled together in a languid and drowsily sweaty heap reluctant to move apart; their continuing caresses slowing and becoming comfortable and soothing. And as her mind and body calmed, Jen realized her life had shifted once again and she felt truly happy for the first time in months. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Jen opened her eyes in the darkening room, roused from her light nap by a shrill ringing. Beside her Haer’Dalis stirred sleepily, wrapping his arms around her and preventing her from moving. She lay quiescent, waiting for the ringing to stop before wriggling into a more comfortable position, intending to go back to sleep. However a couple of minutes later, she heard the faint but familiar sound of her cell phone’s ringtone coming from downstairs. “Oh God,” she murmured against his chest, “first my house phone, now my cell phone. I’d better check and make sure it’s not Mom trying to reach me for some reason.” She pushed away from him and swung out of bed, grabbing her shorts and t-shirt off the floor and pulling them on as she padded towards the door.

“What are you talking about, my love?” She looked back to see Haer’Dalis sitting up in bed, his expression faintly quizzical. 

“Someone’s trying to reach me – probably Mom. Most people aren’t that persistent but she is and even though I just saw her she worries when I don’t respond. Honestly,” she added in mild exasperation, “I wouldn’t put it past her to send the police over for a Wellness Check which would be just little awkward right now, don’t you think?” She left the room, heading downstairs in search of her purse and finding it precisely where she’d left it on the living room coffee table. She dug around in it for a moment and located her phone, pulling it out as Haer’Dalis came into the room behind her.

Her fingers moved rapidly to bring up the message. Hmmmm…not Mom after all. It’s Beth!” she exclaimed in dismay, running her fingers agitatedly through her hair. “I forgot; we were going to meet for dinner. I should have been there a half hour ago.” Her fingers moved rapidly over the phone’s surface and she glanced up to see Haer’Dalis watching her curiously. She held out the phone so he could see the words on the tiny screen. “I’m texting. Sending a written message through the phone.” She smiled at his blank look, “Think of it as _my_ kind of magic,” and pressed the ‘send’ key but kept the phone in her hand. “Hold on a minute. She’ll probably reply.” 

Sure enough, a minute later the phone beeped again. Jen read the incoming message and grinned in relief. “Beth understands and it doesn’t sound like she’s too mad.” Her fingers flew as she typed in a second response and then put the phone back in her purse. “There. I told her I’d talk with her tomorrow and turned off the ring so we won’t be disturbed again.” 

She sat down on the couch, inserting herself into his arms as he came to sit beside her. “It’s getting late. Are you hungry? I could make dinner or at least get us something to drink. Some wine maybe?” He nodded, brushing his lips against hers in a brief kiss and she left the room, returning a couple of minutes later. They drank quietly for a moment and then she turned to him, “We have a lot of catching up to do.”

He smiled ruefully, “Agreed, my love. It seems we have much to say but the question is where to begin?”

“I know. So much has happened – to both of us. Still, I’ve spent months worrying and wondering whether you killed Isaea, so why don’t you start by telling me what happened after I went through the portal and what kept you from following?” 

“Isaea will trouble us no longer. He is finally and truly dead.” He sighed. “As to following you quickly…best laid plans often go awry. Believe me, I had no intention of leaving you alone for so long but circumstance…in the form of Isaea’s sword…made following impossible for awhile.” His hand moved to his left shoulder and he rubbed the heavy scar. 

“Yes, and it’s one of the reasons I’ve been so worried all this time. I thought…I mean I wondered if….” she stopped, unable to complete the sentence, hugging him tightly instead for a couple of minutes before continuing. “So why don’t you tell me the story. What happened after you killed Isaea until…oh say, _now_?” 

“There will be time enough for lengthy tales. For now, however, know that I did try follow as soon as I could but wasn’t able to get off your Wizard Island. ’Twas closed and seemed likely to be so until spring so I went back to Faerun looking for Tristan. She was pleased to see me although Nalia was certainly less so.” He scowled briefly as if at a memory.

“Cramped your style, did she?” Jen asked with a smirk.

“A bit. She was sure I’d abandoned you somewhere and I’m certain ‘twas only Yoshimo’s corroboration that kept her from following through on her promise to roast me with a fireball. But she made sure she kept track of me – I hadn’t a moment’s peace from her until I left to come here. She sends greetings by the way.” He shook his head, “But truly my love, my part can wait. What happened to you?” 

She looked at him, suddenly sober. “Haery…you have no idea how awful….” Her voice broke as tears welled up in her eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s just that the last few months have been very hard; I’ve been so worried about you and then my father died – killed in a car crash….” She swallowed hard, trying to ease the lump that had formed in her throat. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

He stroked her cheek softly. “My poor Kestrel, ‘tis clear your time alone has been distressing. I at least had the comfort of believing – of knowing - you to be safely at home.” His eyes caught hers and his tender expression quite took her breath away. 

It also reminded her there was something that remained unsaid between them. She looked down, marshalling her thoughts for she knew without a doubt that it was time to rectify her reticence; to say what her sense of self-preservation had forced her to leave unsaid in Faerun. “Haery, I…um…”

“What is it my love?” 

“I need to tell you something important. Something I should have said a long time ago.” Taking a deep breath, she looked him full in the eye and continued, “It’s just that after I got home, I realized that I’d never told you that I love you. And then…well, after the last few months, I thought I’d never have the chance.” Her throat tightened again and she heard her voice break slightly as she pressed on, “I just want to make sure that I say it now. I don’t want to lose another opportunity.” His eyes, always expressive, grew brighter, lighting up his face as she said the words, “Haery, I love you.”

“And I you my Kestrel.”

She hugged him, her chest tight with happiness. “You know, I think I’m going to be alright now.” 

Haer’Dalis nodded. “Aye, my love, we both will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Arany János, 1817-1882  
> 2\. Percy Bysshe Shelly, Complete Poetical Works. Boston; Boston; New York: Houghton Mifflin, c1901 (Cambridge: Riverside Press)’ Bartleby.com,.1999.  
> 3\. Reputed to have been said by Alexandra to Nicholas III.


	55. Home is Where the Heart Is - Part II  (Conclusion)

_Late October - Earth_

Jen shivered at the chilly touch of fall air generated by the ferry’s sluggish movement towards its island mooring. 

“Seems a bit cool,” Haer’Dalis said. He held out an arm and she huddled against him gratefully, wishing that she’d worn her jacket instead of stowing it in her pack. “Do you want to go inside and get out of the wind?” 

She shook her head, “No. It’s too stuffy. We’ll be there soon and as long as I have you here, I’ll be fine.” She put her arms around him sliding them under his jacket so that she could feel the heat of his skin more directly as they leaned companionably against the railing watching the ripple of waves created by the boat’s forward progress. 

“This is very different from the last time I was here,” she remarked. “Last time I was on Wizard Island I was more or less in custody. I still can’t believe you managed to avoid it.”

He grinned broadly. “My time on Sigil was often spent outrunning the Harmonium’s patrols. I had no desire to tempt fate by seeking help from authority here.” 

“I know,” she replied, “and instead you somehow managed to fall in a group of perfect strangers whom you somehow convinced to help you.” 

“I’m a bard,” he retorted, smirking at her. “Influencing others is but one of my many talents.” 

She laughed, rolling her eyes at him. “Apparently so. But I’m still rather amazed at the way you managed to convince perfect strangers to help you get off the island and find me.” While her fears for his safety had not been unfounded – her own experience on returning home had certainly demonstrated the challenges of trying to explain the unexplainable – he’d somehow managed to avoid the questions altogether; once again demonstrating his rather amazing ability to adapt and improvise and to avoid consequences and situations that for most would have been unavoidable. She smiled to herself, recalling her grandmother’s words after meeting him. _He’s seems very good at letting others have his way. The type who can tell someone to go to hell in a way that they actually look forward to the trip._

Haer’Dalis had told her about coming through the conduit and falling in with a group of hikers making their way to one of the island’s overnight camps. The group had been young – college students on a long weekend - and seemingly rather carefree, for they’d welcomed him – a stranger – willingly enough into their midst and before long had invited him to join them; an invitation he’d accepted readily. He’d managed to slip onto the ferry in their midst, accompanying them back to the mainland and from there to Medford where they’d parted ways but not before one of the women, inspired by his story and perhaps the rather romantic notion of aiding the reunion of lost lovers, had used the college’s ride-share board to connect him with a student driving to California. _And the rest, as they say, is history._

The intervening months since his arrival had been busy for she’d helped her mother purchase and move to a new home and then embarked with Haer’Dalis on a somewhat extended road trip culminating in a week at the Burning Man festival. If there was any place on Earth she thought he’d enjoy and might fit in without comment, it was at Burning Man with its mantra of artistic self-expression and survival – a bit of a feat in the burning desert heat - and she’d been right. It did suit him. Haer’Dalis had taken to it immediately, reveling in the opportunity for extemporaneous self-expression as well as it’s entropic conclusion - the burning of the giant “Man” followed by the dismantling of the town in keeping with the festival’s philosophy of leaving no trace of its existence. And it had meant something to her as well for sometime during that rather carefree week Jen had realized that she truly didn’t want to go back to Althea and stay. 

Her decision had precipitated another flurry of activity as she’d gone home to settle her affairs and say good-bye to Beth and her friends before heading back to Seattle for a last visit with her family. Not that any of them had known that that’s what it was for all she’d said was that she’d decided to travel and see the world with Haer’Dalis, keeping in touch as best she could. What she hadn’t said was how difficult that might be. Certainly neither her mother nor Beth had approved of her decision, both pointing out the imprudence of her actions – particularly her decision to give up her house - on several occasions. 

Although Beth had been accepting of Haer’Dalis due in large part to her greater knowledge of Jen’s adventures, her mother had been suspicious of his sudden appearance and skeptical of his suitability as a partner given his mysterious lack of anything constituting the normal reality of family, friends, home or job. Jen understood what it looked like; in her mother’s place she too would have been questioning her sanity. Still, as much as she could understand and even empathize with her mother’s feelings, she’d continued to hold her ground. After a while, her mother had changed her tactics from trying to convince Jen of the wrongness of the relationship to simply expressing concern that she was “wasting her inheritance” and trying to convince her to maintain some semblance of stability although she’d clearly blamed Haer’Dalis for Jen’s stubborn refusal to consider her arguments. Haer’Dalis had wisely stayed out of such discussions although Jen knew he’d taken a rather perverse enjoyment from being labeled a bad influence and from the on-going discord; the discussions and arguments being, from his perspective, just another form of chaos.

The ferry drew near the island and as they reached the dock, a bustle of activity broke out bringing Jen back to the present. She reached down and picked up her pack, shouldering it as she and Haer’Dalis joined the rest of the passengers in making their way down the wide gangplank and onto dry land. As they walked past a sign reading ‘Wizard Island,’ Jen reached out, touching it briefly. _I can’t believe it’s been five months since I’ve been here. The summer went by so fast although all the time before – losing Dad, not knowing where Haery was - felt like forever._

Neither of them had any desire to stop at the ranger station and it took little time to find the path behind it. They walked in silence, Jen following a few footsteps behind Haer’Dalis as they made their way up the trail, pausing from time to time to look around, taking in what might be her last view of Earth for several months if not longer and as they neared their destination she stopped and looked back. From where she stood, the lake was a beautiful deep blue, its surface broken by the white froth of small waves blown up by the wind. In the distance, she could see the park’s mainland lodge, smoke rising from its kitchen chimneys and a few ant-like figures in the parking lot outside.

Haer’Dalis came to stand beside her. “Changing your mind?”

Her lips twitched. “It’s woman’s prerogative isn’t it?" His expression darkened slightly as if a door were being closed and she shook her head, grinning. "But of _course,_ not. Just saying good-bye, that’s all.” It _was_ good-bye at least for some time to come but to her own world, rather than to Haer’Dalis. She still tried not to think about it too closely for although she was happy and excited to be with Haer’Dalis, it was still a little unnerving to be leaving her old life behind for good. The first time it had happened, she’d had no time to think; she’d just fallen into it. But now, she was going – perhaps forever – quite intentionally. 

_At least Mom stopped arguing at the end. And I will come back at times._ She turned away from the view, shifting her pack to a more comfortable position and reaching out to take Haer’Dalis’s hand as they started up the trail once again. She’d be in Faerun before nightfall; would be seeing her friends there again soon. “Do you think it will be hard to find Nalia and Tristan?” she asked. 

Haer’Dalis shrugged. “’Tis hard to say. I left them in Tethyr after we found Tristan’ sister but they weren’t going back to Athkatla right away. I think they were going to Suldanesslar. Where the elves live,” he added, as Jen gave him a puzzled look. “We’ll go to Athkatla and see if there’s news. Tristan is one who attracts attention and beyond that there’s Keldorn or Anomen who most likely would need to report their whereabouts to their Order.” 

She nodded. “I still can’t believe what you told me about Yoshimo; that he would actually betray Tristan. He seemed like such a kind person; a good friend.”

“Well, there’s always the small matter of being under a geas,” he replied dryly, “which provides its own unique form of persuasion.”

They reached the small group of trees containing the portal, stepping behind them to open their packs and take out clothing and armor. Jen buckled on her vest, smiling as she noticed Haer’Dalis settling his swords about his waist, his fingers caressing the hilts lovingly. “Missed them did you?” He grinned, lifting a brow in acknowledgement. “I wonder,” she went on, “whether there’s anything here you’ll miss?”

“Not really, for the best of your world is coming with me. But,” he added hastily as she frowned at him, “if I had to make a choice it would be your – what do you call it – media.” A satisfied smile crossed his face, “The internet. ‘Twas fascinating to talk with people all across your world. And to see how easily innuendo, gossip and rumor could be spread! It seems clear that whoever invented it must have been a Doomguard at heart for who else would let loose a system with the ability to create turmoil with nothing more than the touch of a button?” 

She grinned, “Hmmmm…perhaps all those rumors of extraterrestrials are true but they’re not from space but from the multiverse! Infiltrated by the Doomguard! And you say you’ve never been here before!” He returned the smile, shrugging good-humoredly. 

Picking up her pack, she took a last look around. When she looked back at Haer’Dalis she saw he had already taken the portal gem out of his pocket and was holding it carefully in his hands. His pack remained at his feet. “Ready, my love?” he asked. 

She nodded. “I’m not going to change my mind if that’s what you’re asking. I want to be with you Haery. I once told you that I’d not let you go easily or willingly and I meant it.” His eyes softened at her words and he reached out to touch her cheek before refocusing on the portal gem cupped in his hands, his brow furrowed in silent concentration as he began to hum. Jen hurriedly clapped her hands over her ears as she suddenly remembered the horrifically atonal sound that served as the portal’s key between Earth and Faerun. It wasn’t a perfect solution but it helped and allowed her to watch stoically as the gem’s soft glow turned into a blaze of light and the air in front of her shimmered and solidified.

“No Isaea to disrupt things this time,” she said. 

“No indeed, he’ll not disturb us ever again.” He bowed gracefully, gesturing towards the opening of the conduit. “After you, my love.”

She shook her head, “No way. Not after what happened last time. I’m never going through one of those things alone again. It’s either beside you or not at all.”

“Then we’ll go together,” he replied, He put the portal gem in his pocket and picked up his pack, slinging it over his shoulders, then held out his hand. She took it and they stepped forward, passing through the almost membrane-like haze. Once again, Jen noticed an absence of sound followed almost immediately by a strong current picking her up and tumbling her about and clung to Haer’Dalis for dear life as they slid through the channel of turbulent air, emerging suddenly at its other end in a somewhat bumpy landing. Her feet met the ground and she stumbled, her head spinning as she sat down hastily, appreciating the solid feeling of the ground beneath her. She remained still for several moments until her head finally cleared and looked over to see Haer’Dalis kneeling beside her. 

Their eyes met. “Welcome back,” he said simply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end for now. I shall miss spending time with Jen and Haery on a regular basis! And I do hope you enjoyed sharing their story as well. :)


End file.
